Pomegranate Kin
by sojunari
Summary: Part 2 of the "Of Arils (and Other Forbidden Fruit)" series. The Winter Soldier returns to major operations in Russia and Christina is left to face the challenges of parenthood without him, but with Hydra amping up to "make history" she's going to have to make the hard choices, to protect herself and her son. (Dad!Bucky in future, Domestic goodness end-game, canon-divergence later)
1. Fruit of Knowledge

_Disclaimer, we all know the drill. I don't Marvel. Recognize it from the movies? Then it's not mine._

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 _I was too psyched to take a break and just decided to jump right in writing chapter one, so here we go!_

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" _Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah._ " comes the same kind of scolding that she's been hearing for weeks now. Ever since she'd announced her pregnancy at the end of November, ever one was tip-toeing around her. Granted Christina had put off telling anyone until she no longer had a choice, by her fifth month she'd finally begun to show too much to continue the ruse and decided it best to beat people to the punch and tell them before they started asking.

After taking that fateful test Christina automatically makes a discrete appointment with a highly commended OBGYN, which only confirms what she already knows to be true. Dr. Brown rubs freezing cold jelly on her stomach and tells her a ton of information that makes the blonde freak out as they look for the blurry image on the ultrasound. She's four weeks along, nearly five. When the doctor sees the petrified look on her face she asks her more questions, about her work, and her health— stiffly avoiding questions about the father.

Dr. Brown cautiously lets her know that five months is within the window in which an abortion could still be carried out, though the nearest state where it's legal upon request is New York. Christina nods, fully aware, but she sees the tiny dot on the screen and knows that it's there because of Winter and her. A tiny little life that half belongs to him and she knows that she could never snuff that out, even if for her own sake. She tells the doctor she appreciates the gesture— many petrified, high profile women approach Dr. Brown with problems like hers— but she won't be needing one.

So the doctor smiles, congratulates her and begins telling her all kinds of information. That her baby's brain, and spinal cord, and nerves are beginning to form. How the amniotic sac now houses the embryo, which is only the size of a single sesame seed at that point. As Christina makes her way home via the metro, she stares at the ultrasound photo and can hardly imagine that in another eight months an entire human will come for that little dot.

Hiding it from people is surprisingly easy. After all she lives alone— which makes tucking away her morning sickness an easy task, she has no man in her life— that people know of, she's long since given up drinking— so no one is any the wiser when she sticks to non-alcoholic drinks, and as it's her first pregnancy— her belly took it's time expanding. Her food and smell aversions are more obvious, but most chalk it up to her plain pickiness.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

Keeping her little secret is hardest from Rumlow and Deja. Once she learns she's pregnant she's forced to cut back on her sessions with Rumlow, though she still frequents the Triskelion to visit him and her father. But, withholding it from Deja has been hard on her. She's her best friend, and she and Aarav have been trying for a child of their own for a few months now. Christina feels guilty, keeping it from everyone, but in Winter's absence she feels helpless and afraid of what's to come. She doesn't know what to tell Deja. She knows she'll expect the full scoop, will want to know who the father is.

Christina can't handle that. For months she tiptoes around it, always looking for the easiest way to tell people; Rumlow, her best friend, her father. Everyone will want answers and telling them that there isn't a father, admitting that he's gone, means facing the fact she'll be raising this child alone. That holds her back for months.

Though she stops sparring with Rumlow, she keeps up their exercise regime for as long as she can manage, the intensity decreasing with each passing month, but she knows exercise is good for her pregnancy. She begins visiting her father more, often camping out with him in his office, working in comfortable silence on their own respective paperwork. She continues working at the firm, taking on cases, though she tries to avoid those more emotionally taxing.

Months pass and she sees the first glimpses of the famed _Captain America_ , who had transferred to the Triskelion from the New York S.H.I.E.L.D. division. He is exactly as he photo depicts, all muscle and bone, and handsome righteousness. He is a symbol for justice and Christina is a little starstruck the first time she lays eyes on him. Luckily the first time she's formally introduced to him she's seen him in passing a few times already. The meeting is only brief, as the Captain files into the elevator alongside her and Brock.

The Avenger addresses him as Agent Rumlow and it makes Christina snicker, in revenge Brock introduces her as a _big fan_ of the superhero. It's not technically a lie. Steven Rogers is a very polite, charming man, a true gentlemen. It tugs her heartstrings a little, but then she's reminded on the man she'd fallen in love with and recalls that heroes and gentlemen aren't exactly her type. Neither are blondes. In short it merely makes her miss Winter again.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

By week fifteen Christina's baby bump has begun to properly form, but not to the point she has to tell anyone. She passes it off as gained weight, just fat. She wears loose fitting clothes, baggy tops and flowing dresses. It works, until month number five. Come November, Christina's belly is bigger than her loose dresses and roomy clothes can hide. So she tells Deja first.

Her best friend is a little hurt at the admission— though she says nothing Christina can tell. She'd wanted to tell her, truly. But, didn't know how she would answer the questions. Lucky for her, her best friend is genuinely excited for the baby. Deja and Aarav have been trying for a few months now, not making any active effort, but foregoing contraceptives now that they're married. Deja is admittedly a little jealous, but truly happy for her.

Next comes Rumlow, who has been worried and possibly suspicious over what he believes to be a steady decline in her health. He's surprised, but it all seems to click after he learns, seems almost happy for her even. "Why didn't you just say so?" Brock asks later on and she tells him the truth, she didn't know how what she'd tell people when the questions would come. "The truth?" Jokes Rumlow, not knowing how it stabs her straight in the heart. The truth, is a thing lost on her now.

Christina is sure, once it's her father's turn that he won't share Deja's sentiment or Rumlow's favorable reception, but she's a little surprised when he doesn't explode. He's firm, clearly upset, but all-in-all accepting— not that he has much choice. Alexander Pierce is a conservative, he likes for things to be _wholesome and traditional_ , stereotypical white-collar American, plain white bread. He didn't imagine grandchildren for at least another few more years, by then he imagined his daughter would have married, settled down, found a husband.

It's a round-about manner, but at the very least he'll be having grandchildren at all— what with the rate she'd been going, single nearing thirty, with little to show for it. Christina is five months along and the baby is healthy which is all he can hope for in a situation as mucked up as the current one. The only question that remains being; who is the father?

Christina tells everyone that the father is out of the picture— which isn't a lie, Winter has been semi-permanently to major operations back in Russia. For all she knows they may never meet each other again. After all, five whole months had passed and there's still no news of him returning to The Vault. So admitting she'll be raising her child alone— a single mother with no ties to any man— is all but the truth. Her father refuses to accept that at first, insists to know who the father may be, thinking perhaps Christina and the man could work through whatever fall out they'd had. Alexander Pierce suspects maybe it's a client from the firm or a co-worker. He asks if she needs for someone to _handle him_ , and though she don't know exactly what he means by that, she assures she has it taken care of. She'd be a single mother and that's that.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

"Put that down." Rumlow scolds, zipping across the room in the blink of an eye to take a moving box from Christina's hands. The blonde huffs, crossing her arms over her protruding belly. "I'm pregnant, not invalid, Brock." She hisses, before settling down on a nearby chair with a pout. She can hear her friends laughing in the background and looks up as Deja makes her way into the living room of Christina's messy apartment.

"Hey, don't take it out on me, _Juno_. Doc said no heavy lifting." Rumlow chuckles, holding up one hand in surrender, the other balancing the box he'd stolen. "Agent's right, Chrissie. Dr. Brown said nothing over twenty pounds, that box probably weights more than that." Defends Deja, tucking a stack of dishes under her arm before joining the pregnant woman on the couch. "You could help me wrap the dishes for packing?" Offers her best friend, grinning at Christina's obvious annoyance. She hates being cut out of the action.

"Actually, I think that's enough for today." Brock inserts, "Your father hired a crew, they're coming in half an hour. I've got things here, you guys go to that exhibit or whatever." Christina prickles up at his suggestion, before becoming distracted by the other half of his sentence. "Go where?" Questions the blonde. Deja grins, jumping up excitedly as Aarav exits the kitchen with a big grin plastered on his face. "They gave the Captain America exhibit a makeover down at the Smithsonian and we thought it'd be cool to go see. Besides you've gotta get out of the house."

As the married couple is gathering everything they might need Christina slips aside and joins Rumlow where he's packing things up in the hallway. "You sure you don't wanna join us?" Asks the blonde with a teasing smile, though she already knows his answer. Rumlow out right laughs, shaking his head as he rises to his full height. He helps the pregnant woman pull her leather jacket on over the blue sweater she's wearing before replying, "At the Captain America exhibit? No thanks, Chris. If I wanna see the guy, I'll do it at work." So, off to the Smithsonian National Museum of American History they go.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

On the car ride over Christina is reminded of one of the harder challenges of the single parent role; thinking of baby names. Deja begins insisting to know her ideas, demanding to know what her future god-son (or god-daughter, one can never be a hundred percent) will be called. Truthfully the mommy-to-be is at a loss. She doesn't know what to name the kid and without Winter there to give his own suggestions, the blonde feels like she'll never be able to choose.

At the eighteen week mark Dr. Brown had asked her if she wanted to know the gender and Christina had been reluctant. After all at that point she still had yet to tell anyone and she was all alone, but she also knew that she would love it regardless of the sex. It's a part of her and of Winter, that's the only thing that matters. So she turns the doctor down, at least at first, but after announcing everyone began asking and it made her curious again.

When Christina finally asks Dr. Brown tells her that it's a boy, though there is always room for ultrasound viewing errors. The doctor says to accompany professional opinion with what her body and her gut are telling her. Based upon the vast decrease nausea and morning sickness that came with her second trimester, the cravings for salty food and red meat— hamburgers, mexican food, and string cheese have been staples for her the last month or so, the low-seated position of her baby bump, her glowing complexion, and the steady heartbeat rate that always reads below 140 bpm are all old-wife tells that she's going to be having a boy.

Christina couldn't be more thrilled, she wants a son. A dark haired, steel eyed little man, just like his father. But, she knows that regardless of gender or appearance, they'll be the next love of her life. At the very least she could have something of Winter's to hold onto. Which brings her back to the task at hand; what she should name her child.

"I honestly don't know, Dey," She insists, voice small as he rubs her hand over her belly. Of course she has a few names in mind, what expecting mother doesn't? But, there's always a whisper in her ear that asks if the father would approve. What names would Winter like? Would he like the names she'd picked out? Would he have in put of his own? Ultimately it's Deja and her family's deep-seated superstitions that make her buckle down on some options. " _You have to give them names or they'll never come to life_." Her grandmother had said over tea one afternoon. Deja had spent the entire afternoon apologizing afterwards, but at the very least it made Christina think of what the hell to name her baby.

Christina is a fan of more traditional names. Henry, William, Jonathan, Nathaniel, and the like. She even has a couple girl names picked out— Elisabeth, Charlotte, Amelia— in the event all of them being mistaken. But, would Winter like them? Which of them would he choose? It's questions like the latter that make Christina second guess this whole single parent thing.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

The Captain America exhibit is inspiring, if not a little awkward because she's met him on more than one occasion by now. It's filled with visuals and information, a great deal of which Christina is already aware of, thanks to history class and many a documentary— in American History she'd written her term paper on _The World's First Super Soldier_.

In the exhibit's main hall is flanked on the far side with a row of mannequins, each of them dressed in the battle gear of a different member of the _Howling Commandos,_ with Captain America anchored at the center. Behind the costume display is a mural of each corresponding commando and standing as the Captain's right hand man is a face that is strikingly familiar.

Christina stands staring for the longest while, trying to put a finger on it, even as her eyes begin to grow wet with tears. To her right she hears the information audio playing overhear and is turned toward the memorial it's reading out. With crippling hesitation and a sinking feeling in her gut, she stops in front of the display titled _A Fallen Comrade_. A black and white portrait stares back at her and everything is _wrong, wrong, wrong_.

The eyes that stare back at her are so painfully familiar but they can't be right. The photo is decades old, but the jawline is there, the dust of stubble, the cheekbones, the prominent nose and soulful eyes. She knows that face. The photo is all wrong, _all wrong,_ but she knows it's Winter because she just _knows_. Reading the name on the memorial over and over again, Christina can't stop the tears from falling. _Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, James Buchanan Barnes, James Buchanan Barnes, James Buchanan Barnes, James Buchanan Bar_ —

"Chrissie, are you alright?!" Deja exclaims, rushing over to the sobbing pregnant woman. Blubbering, all the blonde can do is gesture endlessly at the picture of her lover— her Winter when he was another man in another life— and sobbing about how _goddamn sad it is_. How goddamn tragic, _how did this happen? How did this happen to him_?

Now his sudden reassignment makes so much sense, Hydra couldn't have the Winter Soldier running free around Washington D.C. with his former best friend, Captain America having transferred to the Triskelion. In the car she sits beside Deja in the back seat, her best friend trying to calm down the near inconsolable blonde. All Christina can think of is that picture, of the grainy footage of him laughing beside Captain America, looking happier than she's ever seen him as long as she's known him. How all this time _he'd had a name_. James Buchanan Barnes.

Sniffling and wiping her tears, she leans against Deja in an almost defeated manner. Her best friend rubs her shoulders, tucks her head against her shoulder and rakes a comforting hand through Christina's blonde hair. Looking down at her swollen belly, she places both hands on it, rubbing affectionately, suddenly overcome with resolve. "I'm gonna name him James," she tells the couple. Confused and a bit concerned with her moodswings, Deja and Aarav write it off as pregnancy brain and congratulate her. "James is a lovely name."

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 _A/N: Thanks to those of you who liked part one enough to follow me all the way to this point!  
What are our hopes for Christina, Bucky Jr, and the big guy himself? What are we hoping to see and what do you think might be coming for Christina?_  
 _Thank you for reading and feel free to leave some feedback to let me know what we're hoping for in the installment of our couples' little story._


	2. Blood of My Blood

_Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel._

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 _I only just now realized all the spacing and formatting got messed up transferring this to FF and this whole time everyone has been just dealing with the story running together at weird places because the line breaks got erased. So I added them for the last chapter and for this chapter. I'm not going back to fix the 21 chapters of Part One though. Also the chapters are going to be shorter in this edition of the series than they were in part 1. We're welcoming another OC this chapter, can you guess who? We've made it 2013, therefore CA:TWS will be coming up shortly._

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"You know you don't have to come every day, Brock." Christina assures the double agent from her spot the hardwood floor of her new home, dressed in a honey yellow zipper-front cowlneck sweater, a cream colored v-neck, worn jeans, and orange loafers. The pair of them are unpacking boxes in her open concept living/dining room and kitchen. Most of the unmarked totes turn out to be clothing, so Christina sits cross legged on the area rug, folding clothes as Rumlow puts away silverware and kitchen appliances across the room.

For a numerous months Christina has been moving out of her apartment in Foggy Bottom and into the place she'd purchased off of Prospect Street in Georgetown. Her new home is a detached, three storey, brick colonial on a quaint street. The lot it's on is isolated from the rest of the block, with it's mature trees, generous greenery, and two and a half car garage; all of which make for a very private piece of property.

The traditional brick colonial home is roomy with it's four bedrooms and three and a half bathrooms. The interior is open concept from the entry, through the living room space to the casual dining area, all the way to the open air kitchen with it's top of the line appliances. There are two other rooms on the main floor, a half bathroom and a mudroom/laundry room, next to the door to the back deck. On the second floor are the three rooms; the baby's room, a master bathroom (which is shared), and the master suite, with an attached multipurpose room which currently serves as a nursery (in the future it will become Christina's massive walk-in closet). On the third story are another three rooms, a full bathroom and two bedrooms; one of which is acting as her office, the other being a guest room.

Christina loves her new home. It's much more than she and little James will need, especially with his father currently out of the picture, but she'd chosen it all on her own. Rumlow is often there, even staying over on a few occasions while he helps her unpack. He and the moving crew her father had hired moved in all the furniture and unloaded all the boxes, leaving the new home owner to unpack them. But, the agent knows better than to leave her alone with them too long, the boxes are too heavy for her to lift and some of the appliances are better left for him or Aarav to move. Even carrying laundry up or down the stairs can be challenging for the heavily pregnant mother.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

By now Christina is twenty-six weeks along with a significant baby bump which prevents her from doing a great deal of things, including carry any kind of weighted object. It frustrates her to no end, not being able to do simple tasks, but being this far along also has it's more rewarding perks. As it's her first pregnancy, she hadn't feel much movement, which she'd worried to be abnormal, but as Dr. Brown said as week 25 grew closer she began to feel what's called _quickening_ , i.e. little James moving and kicking about.

If her protruding belly hadn't made this all feel real, the first kick— which is particularly hard— both startles her and grounds her. This is happening. Christina only wishes Winte-James Barnes- Bucky- _his father_ — could be there with them. She wonders what it must be like for him, all alone in Russia. Does he miss her? Does he even remember her?

Christina sighs, rising unsteadily to her feet with folded clothes in hand. Thinking about Winter- Bucky- James— _what the hell should she call him now?_ —makes her upset. Her hormones are all over the place and when she's depressed it feels multiplied tenfold. So she resolves it's better not to think about it, at least for the time being, and plops the folded pile into the laundry basket. Rumlow makes his way across the room, snatching up the basket of clothing before she makes her ascent up the stairs.

"You're helicoptering again," she chides, following Brock up the steps. The latter scoffs, casting her a raised brow over his shoulder. "I'm friend-ing. Sue me." Christina laughs, making her way around him at the top of the stairs and leading the way into her room. As the blonde puts away her laundry, Rumlow takes a seat on the truck at the foot of her bed. "At least the upstairs is all put away." He comments, admiring the set up of her bedroom. She nods along.

The white walls and oak floor, the cherry furnishings, the king sized bed. The nursery is all white furniture and gender-neutral pastels. The bathroom is modern with cool toned tiles and the second bedroom has the same oak floor and white walls, it empty of furniture at the moment, but in the future she'll furnish it with playroom furniture and a kid's bed for little James. The guest room upstairs and her office are fully set up though. Her office is roomy and modern, decorated with more cherry wood furnishing and a neutral palette concept with turquoise accents. The guest room too has a neutral palette, though with a slightly more masculine touch than the rest of the house, thanks to the dark wood finishings and the hulking queen-sized bed frame. This may have something to do with Rumlow rooming there from time to time. But, even with all the space it feels empty in Winter's absence.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

The months fly by quicker than Christina expects them to, eventually she goes on maternity leave from the firm and takes to walking the treadmill while Brock boxes, instead of doing their usual routine. The expecting mother is often bored out of her mind having nothing to do every day. Needless to say she spends a lot of time at the Triskelion, so much in fact that she foregoes the security checkpoint at this point. Whether it's because she's pregnant and waiting in line is inconvenient for her or because her father (or maybe Brock) put the clearance though for her to use bypass gate, she doesn't know, but she's grateful for it.

Filing into the elevator, she sets a course for the mezzanine. She's going to meet Rumlow for lunch before going up to hang out with her father in his office ,which is how she's been occupying herself for the last couple weeks. Christina is busy fiddling with her cell phone, texting Deja, when the elevator stops on a different floor. Agent Jack Rollins and a group of S.T.R.I.K.E. team members stand before her, waiting to get on the lift, and at the back of the group stands _Mr. Stars and Stripes_ himself, Captain Rogers. The Rollins and the group file inside, some setting the course for the docking bay, others for the mezzanine like her.

The blonde offers a wave to Rollins the S.T.R.I.K.E. members, each of them nodding in return, most are faces she knows from The Vault, others know her as the Secretary's daughter. Captain America comes to stand beside her, headed for the docking bay. "Good afternoon, ma'am." Greets the Super Soldier, offering a kind smile. "Afternoon, Captain." Christina nods anxiously, grinning awkwardly in return and fiddling with the water bottle in her hand.

Ever since learning about Winter's true identity, seeing the superhero makes her guilt run rampant. She should tell him— that his best friend is still alive, that he isn't alone in this world, that Sergeant Barnes needs his old war buddy to come save him. But, Christina does none of those things. After all Winter's been sent off, she knows not where. Though the Russian sector is in charge of him at the moment he's often lent out to other sectors for high priority missions, he could literally he anywhere. Besides, she has much more to worry about now that simply Winter and herself.

Touching a palm to her protruding belly, Christina heaves out a sigh, drawing attention from the Super Soldier. "You're quite far along." Captain America comments, gesturing to her baby bump. The woman nods, running her hand over the stripped pattern of her navy and white shift dress stretched over her belly, "37 weeks," grins the expecting mother. Captain Rogers nods, smiling almost fondly. "To full term then." She nods, sipping at her water. "Agent Rumlow must be excited then." the Avenger concludes, making Christina choke on her drink.

Coughing and sputtering, Christina can hear Rollins laughing as he comes up behind her, clapping her on the back to dislodge the water from her system. Poor Steve Rogers looks terribly concerned, if not confused as he awaits an explanation. When she finally manages to clear her throat, the blonde shoots him a weary look, shaking her head. "Brock's a good friend," assures Christina, quietly turning to thank Jack. "But, that's all."

Realization blooms on the Super Soldier's face and he quickly apologizes, the slightest hint of pink dusting his cheeks. A wistful smile greets her mouth, sad but almost reminiscent. "His father is nothing like Rumlow. Or anyone really." And, before Captain America has an opportunity to reply the elevator arrives and she files out with the others who are getting off for the mezzanine.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

Three weeks later Christina is being driven to the emergency room by Deja and Aarav, who'd been staying at her house in the days leading up to her due date. The blonde is sucking in breathes almost like hyperventilating. Deja sits in the back seat beside her, petting her hair and reassuring her everything would be fine. It'd been a few days since her visit to Dr. Brown and she hadn't expected to dilate so quickly in such a short period. When her contractions begin she's so sure they're merely irregular uterine muscle spasms, she knows they're not uncommon after reaching full term. It isn't until the contractions begin coming in intervals of less than 10 minutes, that Christina realizes she's already gone into labor.

Labor at this phase is the longest and least intense, her discomfort still minimal, but she knows she should be at the hospital. So Deja helps her into the car and Aarav makes sure they arrive safely at the emergency room. She's ushered into a private room rather urgently and spends the next half hour settling in, someone coming in to check the progress of her dilation every so often. Moving into the active phase, the cervix dilates more rapidly and Christina begins feeling pain in her back and a pressure on her abdomen, growing more intense with each contraction. That's when they start coming every three to four minutes, lasting approximately thirty or forty seconds each time and she knows it's really crunch time.

Labor is a grueling eight hours before _James Kennedy Pierce_ is delivered at seventeen minutes to midnight on April 20th of 2013. Although she curses and cries, wishing Winter were there with her. That he even had some kind of clue that was occurring, instead he's on another continent entirely oblivious to what's going on, has been going on for ten months. Writing her last name on her son's birth certificate puts Christina through the wringer. Her hand twitches, pen hovering over the line where a surname awaits. She longs to write _Barnes_ , getting all choked up again when she ultimately scribbles _Pierce_ in the blank.

Cradling her newborn is makes Christina feel small, like they're both fragile, like everything could fracture to pieces should she make any wrong moves. Deja is by her side and Aarav, Rumlow, and her father are in the waiting room, but Christina feels terribly alone. Winter is a world away, having no idea of the life he fathered, and to the new mother it feels like she and her son are all alone in this. Who would protect them, look after them, hold them at arm's length from the clutches of Hydra?

Christina holds little James in her arms, the slight, seven pound infant quietly cooing as he glances around with wide, curious eyes. Seeing nothing and everything, hearing all too much, and clinging close to the warmth of his mother. Her son is the tiniest little thing; his complexion only a shade darker than her own fair tone— like his father, a thin layer of dark brown hair on his little head, and his big, inquisitive eyes are blue-grey, cold steel, like his fathers. The blonde tucks the child closer, reaches out a finger for his tiny hand, giggling with bliss and relief as the itty hand grips her fingertip. James _Jr._ is a mirror image of his father; Winter's warm complexion, his brunette hair, his ice irises.

It makes her ache with the yearning, the craving, hankering, burning, longing to have the Winter Soldier— no, _James Buchanan Barnes_ — come _home_. To be with his _family_ and be a _person_ with them; not Winter, not the Asset, or the Soldier, just James Barnes with his lopsided grin and his blazing steel gaze. Little _Jamie_ whines, ripping his mother away from the delirious longing and back to the present. She looks down at the tiny bundle in her arms and is grateful. At least she'll keep his eyes in her life.

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 _A/N: Thanks to those of you who liked part one enough stick it through!_  
 _This chapter almost felt like a filler, maybe it sort of was but at least Christina gave birth to Bucky Jr. this chapter and I made a tiny Hamilton reference because I'm scum. But aside from the little guy, how do we feel about our good buddy Rumlow? I've gotten some good feedback about him and Chrissie's friendship, but I also recall those who are bugged by him. How do we feel about it? I'm a little sad I'm gonna have to turn him into the antagonist that he is in TWS, because he's truly Christina's friend. And, how did we like Steve?! Awkward exchange tbh, but from his point of view Christina's a pregnant woman who comes and visits Rumlow on essentially a daily basis, and their notably close, so I don't think it's a stretch for him to jump to that conclusion. Thankfully she shuts that right down. But, the important part is that I've established that Steve has met her, and actually recognizes her— for later reference. How do you think he's going to take things when Bucky and Christina reunite?_  
 _Thank you for reading and feel free to leave some feedback to let me know what we're hoping for in the installment!_


	3. Growing Pains

_Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel._

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 _A/N: A quick update this time around because I was pretty motivated today. I'm excited to get to the domestic stuff, so I've gotta power through TWS and AOU. The plus side is we've finally reached 2014, TWS will be going down in the next chapter!_

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Mother and son do a great deal of their own growing. Everyone tells Christina that she wears motherhood well. She is fierce, a lion, a protective mama bear. After her son is born, she closes ranks and bares her teeth. Nothing will bring harm to her son, the only piece of Winter that she has left. Following her maternity leave, before returning to work, the new mother interviews a slew of nanny's— all of whom are run through a thorough background check. The most important factor for Christina? That they have no existing ties to Hydra.

Now that _Jamie's_ been born, it means the risk of someone discovering who his father is, is an ever present threat. Ultimately she hires one of Deja's aunts, Cecile. A sweet woman in her forties, who's children are already grown and in college. She knows that Cecile can be trusted, having been friends with Deja for many years, she's known her aunt for some time as well. Christina returns to work with that same renewed fire, motherhood hadn't softened her, as some expected. Instead she's all the stronger for it, blazingly intimidating, even as she balances fixing and parenting. Everyone is pretty impressed, but still she wonders if she's doing everything right.

James Kennedy Pierce is a quiet child in those first few months, which worries his mother. He rarely cries or fusses, unless he's wet or uncomfortable. Christina wonders if maybe this has something to do with his father being a genetically engineered super soldier, what if that affected her son's own genetic make up? Would it make him any different from other children? Christina doesn't know, she's flying blind on this as a first time parent and having to do it alone burns her heart, makes her long for Winter.

Luckily she has many who are happy to assist her. Cecile is a blessing, looking after Jamie, cleaning up the home, even cooking meals on the nights Christina is running late and she pays her generously for it. Cecile is like the mother she'd had lost years before. Deja is always more than willing to help with Jamie, an excited auntie and godmother to the newborn. Aarav loves looking after the infant, always ready to spend _guy time_ with the little man. Even Rumlow is a great help, though he isn't very good with children at all. He— thankfully— keeps the child at arm's length, instead looking after his friend. Brock is always willing to run errands for her, happy to look into household problems, and any other favors she asks of him. He often finds himself buying diapers or groceries, paying her bills. Plumbing problem? Call Brock. Car troubles? Call Brock. Luckily, he'd rather be doing favors than babysitting.

It's good for Christina too, because she tries to distance herself from her Hydra ties. Admittedly, Rumlow is one of her closest friends, so it's hard for her to remove him from the equation. And Alexander Pierce— the leader of Hydra— is of course, her father. She can't cut ties with him even if she tried. She tries to tell herself it's because he's her blood, the only member of her family that she's close to, but she knows the true reason is because she knows too much. The young woman knows about Hydra, about their sleeper agents inside of S.H.I.E.L.D., about their classified locations, and their top secret Asset. There's no way her father would ever let her be free, especially if he were to learn that the Winter Soldier fathered her son. But, that doesn't mean she doesn't make an effort to keep Jamie from him.

Christina makes sure that her father, or any Hydra agent really, is left alone with her son. Little Jamie comes along with her when she goes to the Triskelion, when she has lunches with her father, when she visits his home, but she always makes an active effort to leave nothing behind that one could procure a DNA test from. And, her father notices nothing. Secretary Pierce is busy man, the work never ends for him, and when he isn't handling his business with S.H.I.E.L.D. or the World Security Council, he's running Hydra. So it isn't too hard to keep his grandson from him.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

Many months later everything is going swimmingly for Christina. She's is killing it at work, Cecile is gift to the little family of two, with the new year Deja and Aarav announced the coming of their own bundle of joy, and Jamie is developing like any normal child would. As times goes by, the emptiness left by his father's absence dulls. There was a time she'd thought the ache would never go away, but with time everything seems to become normal, even without Winter there with them. But, that doesn't mean she forgets about him.

Strutting into the Triskelion with Jamie balanced on her hip, the blonde arrives for yet another brunch with her father. That day Alexander Pierce is busy meeting with people on the mysterious _Project Insight_ and Rumlow is away with the S.T.R.I.K.E. team on a mission, so Christina busies the pair of them in the headquarter's lobby.

In every S.H.I.E.L.D. facility there's a memorial to agents lost in the line of duty. _The Wall of Valor_ , it's called. Waiting for her father, Christina finds herself standing in front of it. She reads the dedication, _in honor of the members of S.H.I.E.L.D. who gave their lives in the service of humanity_. Christina shifts her son in her arms, throat tightening as she tries to swallow down the tears that threaten to fall. _'Wars may be fought with weapons, but are won or lost by men',_ a quote by General George S. Patton.

Standing before the first panel, marked between 1941 through 1965, Christina's eye automatically find Winter's true name, labelled beneath the agency's original emblem. Her fingers twitch, longing to reach out. Christina doesn't resist the urge, lifting her free arm to trace her fingertips over the letters of his name. _God, does she miss him_ , but still manages to find herself giggling when little Jamie leans out toward the memorial, his little arm outstretched to mimic his mother.

Tiny hands press against his father's name, gurgling and cooing as he curiously touches the engraving as Christina had. The blonde chuckles, bouncing her son on her hip, "That's your daddy," she murmurs quietly into the infant's ear, though she knows he won't understand. The swelling pride and sorrow mingle together in a miserable mass in her gut, watching her little boy trace his little hands over the name of his absent father. It breaks her heart.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

Captain Rogers marches through the lobby of the Triskelion, toward the security bypass gate, when he spots the Secretary's daughter, dressed in a chevron patterned cardigan, a white blouse, and pleather textured pants, looking like someone from a magazine, even with her nine month old son propped up on her hip. The pair stand before the _Wall of Valor_ memorial. Christina Pierce is a curious woman, having no professional connection to S.H.I.E.L.D. or even to the World Security Council— merely her personal relationships with Rumlow and her father— yet she can often be found at the headquarters.

He watches for a moment as she reads over the memorial, lingering in front of the first paneling and tracing her fingers over a particular name. His best friend's name. Steve is barely aware of his feet carrying him to the memorial as he watches the little boy mimic his mother, tiny hands reaching out and touching Bucky's engraving on the dedication. He watches to woman murmuring to her son, too far away to listen despite his enhanced hearing.

"He was a good man," Steve finds himself blurting out, coming to stand beside Christina and her little boy. Christina nearly jumps, startled by his sudden appearance. Glancing from Captain America to Winter's name on the memorial, she nods and then steals a look at her curious infant. "I know," she says fondly, almost as if she'd known him too. Steve feels a curious prick in his gut, watching the sad expression that greets her face, but it's gone almost as quickly as it came. The new mother raises her gaze to the Avenger, offering an explanation, "History told his story." _At least what's known of it_.

Rogers nods, looking to her dark haired, blue eyed son, who looks little like his mother. Steve _loves_ children and the nine month old baby has finally directed his attention away from the _Wall of Valor_. "Nice to finally meet this little guy," the Super Soldier grins, waving down at the adorable child. His big, steel blue eyes take in Captain America, blinking with curiosity before tucking back into his mother's chest, suddenly shy.

Christina and Rogers chuckle, watching the little boy peek over his mother's arm at the superhero and then duck his face to hide again. "Yeah," the new mother laughs, "This is James Kennedy and he's a little shy," Christina shifts the infant in her arms, trying to turn him toward the man. "Say hi, Jamie." She giggles, although the baby isn't near speaking sentences yet. Steve grins, waving to the little guy. "Hey, buddy." He greets, his only reply is quiet cooing and a turned face.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

It's an early April morning when Christina finds herself waking anxiously to the cries of her son. The single mother rolls out of bed, yanking her grey cotton robe over her satin pajamas. Cecile is there early that morning, Christina finds her cooking breakfast, following the sound of Jamie's cries. Rumlow stands in the kitchen, bouncing the squirming child in his big, tree trunk arms. Since learning to walk the little boy had become too antsy to sit still for long periods and needed constant supervision when playing. Jamie is 12 months old now, his first birthday only weeks away, as it's only the first week of April.

Christina gives the double agent a curious, almost suspicious gaze, one eyebrow arched as she scoops up her blubbering son. "You're terrible with children, Brock." She chides, patting Jamie's back. He raises his hands in defense before walking over to fetch the boy's bottle. "Look, I warned Mrs. Durand it was a bad idea, but she needed free hands to make breakfast." Brock passes it to the blonde and the crying quickly subsides as Jamie gobbles up the nipple of the little blue bottle. He'd merely wanted milk.

Brock shakes his head at the boy, sitting down on the stools at the end of the kitchen island. "He isn't a fussy kid, but he never complies with me," he laughs, but isn't all that hurt over it. He prefers to keep his distance from small children and Christina likes it better that he isn't too close with her son. Her effort to keep Hydra from her child is only compromised by Rumlow and her father after all.

"What brings you over so early?" She questions, greeting Cecile before sitting down beside Brock, with Jamie perched on her lap. The infant glances around curiously, watching his nanny cook as he drinks down his milk without a fuss. "Your dad called you in, he's got some work related things he wants to discuss. He wanted me to bring you in." So following breakfast she turns her son over to Cecile and makes her way up stairs to get dressed. It's still a bit chilly, even for spring, so Christina dons a grey sweater, pleather pants, and a pair of black pumps before leaving with Rumlow for The Vault.

The meeting, it turns out, is about her work at Valkyrie Consultants. Apparently someone who'd crossed Hydra planned to hire a fixer from her firm and Alexander Pierce wants her to see to it that he's rejected. Christina is reluctant to help, but sees this to be the best option. After all if she refused then this person would become associated with the firm, effectively tangling them up with Hydra. She decide it better to comply and agrees that whoever this person is, Valkyrie won't accept their case.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

Christina is preparing to leave her father's office, when a Russian team member bursts into his office, informing him in Russian that _the Asset has arrived from transport and is being escorted to the observation bay to await inspection_. The woman's heart thuds down into her gut, the sound of a record scratching playing in her ears, her eyes going wide, and her body going rigid. _Winter is back!_ Her heart rate spikes at merely the thought.

She should leave, should march down the hallway, into the elevator and go home to her son. But _Winter is back_ , the father of her only child, the love of her life, the only man she'd ever cared for to the extent that she'd give it all for him. Christina doesn't leave, she follows her father through the corridor and into the observation bay. A wave of déjà vu washes over as she looks through the observation window.

The Winter Soldier is seated in the treatment chair, surrounded by quietly humming machines, an armed agent guarding the door. He's dressed in the same black canvas and leather tactical gear that he usually wears, the leather mask secured over the lower half of his face, like a muzzle. The Asset is stiff in his seat, his posture as rigid as the first time she'd seen him here. Like that day, he's clearly on guard, ready for a fight, and staring right at her through the clear glass window.

The Russians and her father are discussing something, Christina only understands half of it. Partially because their speaking too quickly in a language she's out of practice in and partially because she's lost in the Soldier's ice blue eyes. Excitement, and longing, and unbridled _love_ radiating off of her like a damn heater. When the agents, the doctor, the scientists, and her father file out she quietly, slowly enters the observation room, careful not to startle him in anyway.

The Winter Soldier sits upright, fixed and stiff as a rod as she gingerly approaches him. He's looking at her, unblinking and unyielding, his eyes so blindingly blue in contrast to the black mask plastered over his mouth. They have a wild look to them, untamed and yet the pretty blonde marches up to him unflinchingly and reaches up to remove the leather muzzle.

Silver shoots out instantaneously, a blur before her eyes, and then his cybernetic hand is latched around her delicate throat, hindering her breathing as it clamps down on her windpipe. Christina freezes, panicking as she reaches up to grip his cold, metal wrist in protest. She tries to suck in a breath, whining soundlessly as her once-lover looks up at her from his seat in the treatment chair, his eyes dead and cold, unfeeling. " _Please,_ " she mouths, a tear streaking down her cheek as she tugs at his arm pleadingly.

After an almost thoughtful moment the Winter Soldier releases her and Christina stumbles back, air flooding her lungs so suddenly it has her coughing uncontrollably. Crystalline tears escaping the corners of her eyes as she looks on his in heartbroken terror. No recognition shows in the steel blue-grey irises and it shatters Christina's heart. When she's able to breathe once more, she glances at his statuesque expression, anguished as she asks, "You don't remember me?"

The Winter Soldier looks on her with no emotion, feeling nothing as he opens his mouth and answers with a simple, " _Nyet,_ " _No_. So, her lover was gone. Her eyebrows become pinched, biting her quivering lip to stop a sob from escaping, and she nods hopelessly, grief stricken and inconsolable. Christina slips out of the observation room and the Asset doesn't stop her, he doesn't even try. The assassin doesn't understand what's going on, but a sickening ache settles in the core of him, as he watches the devastated blonde depart, without so much as blinking at her.

Hiding away in a random restroom, Christina collapses to the tile under the weight of her fear and sorrow. She muffles her sobs in her palm, but can't stop the tears no matter how hard she tries. The Asset hadn't remembered her. He'd clamped that cold, metal weapon over her throat and had no qualms with ending her life. Winter didn't know her anymore. Christina falls apart.

* * *

 _Russian Translation:_

 _*Nyet (нет) — No_

 _The tables are going to be turning very soon, not just for Christina, but for everyone in the story. I got sad writing the end of this chapter with Chrissie and Winter. Poor girl, Winter doesn't remember her. The Russians are extremely strict with his routines, they wipe him and stick him in cryo after every use, so his memory's pretty shot atm. It's crunch time for Hydra pretty soon, so there was less Rumlow and more Stevie in this chapter. TWS is gonna be goin down very soon and I'm pretty excited. How are we liking it so far? Leave me a comment and let me know. As always, thank you kindly for reading!_


	4. All Fall Down

_Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, you know the drill._

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 _A/N: I've been away for a bit, sorry to admit I've been a little unmotivated lately, but I powered through this chapter. I'm hoping I'll get my groove back and crank out the following chapter in the next week or so._

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After the violent encounter with her former lover in The Vault, Christina avoids The Vault. Her neck bares a red, angry bruise that she's forced to hide with high collars and scarves, just like when they'd first met. She takes the next day off at home with her son, her voice quiet and small thanks to the damage Winter's metal hand left behind.

She spends the day bumming out in ripped jeans and comfy, over sized turtleneck sweater, tending to a lot of tummy time on the floor with her little boy. It's a lazy day, but when she lays Jamie down for his midday nap, Christina finds standing before the bathroom mirror, looking over her badly bruised throat, and she can't stop the tears from coming. Feeling incredibly foolish, she curls up in the empty tub and cries quietly, where her sleeping child can't hear.

Wishing desperately that Winter will remember, she hates the part of her that folds in fear. She knows now that she has other problems to concern herself with, as much as she loves Winter, he's still dangerous, which was well and fine when it was only her. But, now she has a son, _their son_ , and she can't continue putting herself in harm's way when she has Jamie to be responsible for.

Christina loves Winter, loves _James Buchanan Barnes_ , but can't be sure that said man even exists beneath the assassin anymore. She loves Winter more than herself, more than her safety, more than her own well being, but not her son's. Who would care for him should she ever be hurt, or killed? She could never leave him to her father, Alexander Pierce would eventually learn of his parentage and then what would become of him?

She loves Winter, but she can't risk her boy. So Christina doesn't go to The Vault again, she spends next couple days playing with her son and watching kid's cartoons. She doesn't learn of the attack in broad daylight, the car chase through the middle of Washington D.C., or the death of S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Fury. Doesn't see the breaking news erupting over every news channel of a second attack on the interstate. Christina doesn't watch the security video and live news footage of Avengers, Captain America and Black Widow, and a third man fighting off an assault team lead masked soldier in leather and fatigues.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

Christina spends the fourth day after incident in The Vault day with her best friend. Everyone is, of course, abuzz about the attack in the middle of city. Deja is not exempt from this, over breakfast she informs the busy single mother of Captain America's alienation from S.H.I.E.L.D. and the attacks in the city. But by now the government has swooped in and classified a great deal of yesterday's goings on, so know one knows the true story. Christina swallows the sinking feelings that it may be connected to Hydra or to Winter's return, little does she know that the father of her child was the one spearheading the attack.

Part of her is screaming to _run_ , the other half is demanding she _tell somebody_ , but the part of her that says Jamie is her priority, to keep her head down, to turn the other cheek wins over. So she plasters on another false smile and spends the day picking out nursery items with Deja in Georgetown. After breakfast they take the transit down the street to Wisconsin Avenue and raid baby stores until clear past noon. Dawn Price, Gap, Tugoo Toys, Little Birdies Boutique. Her best friend spends too much on toys her little embryo can't yet play with, clothes they can't yet wear.

They walk Wisconsin Ave in their clanking heels, Christina pushing little Jamie's stroller as she walks side by side with her fashionably dressed friend. Sporting her own turtleneck, a pencil skirt, and mirrored heels, the blonde looks proud and stylish despite the purple hand print hidden beneath the material covering her throat. With all their shopping sufficiently completed, she, Jamie, and Deja settle in at Patisserie Poupon for coffee and french pastries (chocolate milk and a macaron for the little guy).

It's mid afternoon when they hear the first resounding boom. Everyone is the cafe freezes, looking out the window where a cloud of dust and smoke rises into the sky in the distance. Ambling to the window, Christina can see the debris of the blast returning back down to earth from whence it came. She can tell, just by the position of the debris cloud that the explosion had to have occurred along the river. Arlington or Rosslyn or— Theodore Roosevelt Island. Her heart drops down into her gut and has her scrambling for the ordering counter.

"The remote!" Christina demands the startled server, who quickly complies. She switches on the television as Deja scoops up Jamie and marches over to where her best friend is flipping to the new channel. The blonde can't stop the ragged exhale that escapes her as she and everyone in the cafe take in the _breaking news_ , staring at the footage that plays over the screen. _S.H.I.E.L.D. Triskelion Under Attack_ , it says in big bold print.

Said footage shows three massive helicarriers hovering over the headquarters, it shows the debris clouding over the D.C. sky, even closer footage on ground of a group of what appears to be the Hydra sleeper agents mounting an attack on S.H.I.E.L.D., and leading the attack is a familiar—this time, unmasked— face.

Her brain goes into panic mode, her thoughts going straight to Winter and her father, before suddenly something else takes over her mind. _Project Insight_ , she recalls. Suddenly everything makes sense— Hydra's doubled security at The Vault, Rumlow's constant missions in the past month, her father's full lack of availability all week, Winter's sudden return, the attacks, Captain America's uncalled-for criminal alienation. All of this could not be a coincidence.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

Christina turns to her best friend with a devastated look, glancing apologetically at her little boy. "Go," Deja tells her despite the resounding fear coursing through her, eyebrows pinched in worry. "I've got Jamie, go find out if your dad's okay." The blonde nods, hugging her friend and kissing her son goodbye. "Mommy's gonna go check on Grampy, okay buddy? Be good for Auntie Dey." Gathering her up her purse and scraping up her courage, Christina bids them farewell and marches out of the cafe. "Just be careful!" Deja calls after her.

Stepping off the curb without hesitation and waving for a cab, she gathers her determination. The first yellow vehicle passes her, already occupied, but this area of Georgetown is a busy district and a major shopping attraction, so the second stops for her and Christina jumps into the cab without pause. Giving her father's address, the cabbie warns her off the attack going on nearby, but she assures him it's a residence. The middle aged man looks hesitant but sees the wild look in her blazing cerulean eyes and quietly complies.

She _is_ going to her father's home, but it isn't to make sure of his well being like Deja had assumed. Not to say she isn't worried, Neo-Nazi leader or not, he's still her father and the only other immediate member of her family left. But, he's a bad man and she knows there's no denying that. Worse, the father of her child is the one mounting a violent attack on a government facility, he's likely to be caught, or worse killed, without ever learning about his son and _that_ is what terrifies her most.

Before the cab properly pulls up outside her father's home, she's already halfway out the door, overtipping via the twenty dollar bill she tosses the driver. Christina runs up the entry steps and hurries to punch in the security home. Alexander Pierce's home is empty, unsurprisingly. All hands are likely at The Vault or the Triskelion. The blonde shudders, pressing on toward her father's study, which she discovers to be locked. Christina jiggles the handle, shoving her shoulder against the door. "Damn it," she curses, before turning around and marching downstairs to the attached garage.

Finding herself the drill, Christina stomps her way back up the steps and faces the office door with a determined look. Finding the bolt holes, she resolves to remove the entire door handle. When the entire handle, lock, and base plate are removed Christina shoves open the door. Her father's study is clean and organized, like the rest of his home. On his desk is a pile of innocent looking World Security Council and S.H.I.E.L.D. paperwork, nothing suspicious or telling of his darker secrets. His computer is surprisingly not password protected, but she finds nothing there either. All of his files mirror the documents on his desk, government related items, nothing that would lead anyone to conclude he was the leader of a Neo-Nazi terrorist group.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

His safe, of course, is protected by a code unlike his computer. Christina thinks it over what the four digit password could possibly be. Surely he wouldn't use his own birth year, probably not even hers because those would be the obvious ones. With her hand hovering over the buttons, the woman heaves a stressed sigh before punching in the birth year of her late mother. The safe makes a series of beeps and a the little light beside the keypad lights up red at the failed entry. Christina curses, thinking over it again before typing in Jamie's birth year and receiving the same reply from the high power safe.

Groaning and holding her face in her hands, she can feel the pressure baring down on her. In movies they always get only three chances before some kind of alarm would be triggered and the last thing she needs is for anyone to know she'd been there. Christina bites down on her thumbnail, raking her brain for something— _anything_ — useful. She thinks over her father, how life had been before she'd met Winter and discovered Hydra, before he'd been the WSC Secretary. She recalls how close they'd been, when her mother was still alive and she'd grown up a complete daddy's girl, how everything changed after the incident in Bogotá so many years before. Suddenly it hits her. Crossing her fingers, Christina punches the year, 1989, into the keypad and anxiously awaited the safe's reaction.

This time it responds with a different series of beeps and the little indicator lights up green. She's surprised she was able to recall the year her father had become Undersecretary and ultimately gone on to lead Hydra. Elated, she tears open the door only to find more paperwork, money, and a handgun inside. Pulling out the files, Christina speed reads through each document only to discover more S.H.I.E.L.D. paperwork. The blonde heaves a sigh, sitting down in the office chair in front of her father's desk. She's unsurprised that he'd covered his tracks, after all he'd fooled everyone, even his family, up until this point.

But, Christina knows she has to find anything he may be hiding though. For all Winter's evils, she knows they'd alternated his memory, that everything he's done he was made to do, and that no one would be able to understand that. Humans are fickle that way. For all his sins, Winter is Jamie's father, and she'd do everything she could to keep them from discovering his identity. It could just give him the advantage he'd need to dodge any agencies after him, should he survive the attack at the Triskelion. Even if he's brainwashed now, with time away from the Chair, he would remember everything and surely he'd come looking for her.

Clicking absently through more of her father's files, she stumbles over a file, tucked away in numerous world titled simply _Ragnarök_. Christina pauses, recalling Norse tales of the extinction-level event; a great battle foretold to ultimately result in the death of the Gods and the subsequent submersion of the entire world in water. She clicks the folder and is greeted by a black page with white coding, followed by a security main frame. Ten blanks slots and a blinking cursor stares back at her.

What the hell are ten letters that would make a sufficient password for a super secret Neo-Nazi main frame? Christina makes a few attempts. Project In— no. _Heil Hitle_ — nope. All of a sudden, Christina feels so stupid. She knows the password, has heard it over and over again down in The Vault. With the eureka effect making her feel considerably more excited than she should, _Aha!_ moment aside, she types in the ten letters— _Hail Hydra_ — and watches the security screen unlock to reveal a mainframe fully complied of cryptically labelled folders. Lumerian, Triskelion, Insight, Leviathan, _Rochambeau_.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

Christina's hand hovers over the mouse, her mind assaulted by a decade's old ache. _No. He couldn't._ The woman freezes, longs to click the folder, but also spare herself from the truth. Alexander Pierce is a bad, terrible man— a Neo-Nazi, a terrorist— but he couldn't have possibly been responsible for this. She's sure of it, her father isn't that kind of man. So she double clicks.

Immediately her eyes are assaulted by graphic imagery. Report scans labelled _Gail Marie Pierce,_ photos of Interstate 395, the Rochambeau bridge over the Potomac river, of an eight car pile up, a deadly motor vehicle accident, and morgue photos of _her mother_. Christina throws herself out of her seat, landing on the floor beside her father's safe, and scrambling for the nearby waste basket. Emptying the entire contents of her stomach into the bin, she finds herself crying, gagging at the memory of the post-mortem photos fresh in her mind's eye.

Flopping back against the open safe, Christina tries to catch her breath and calm her hiccuping sobs. Betrayal burns rampant, swallows her whole and then spits her back a whole new woman. Raw with pain, cheeks wet with tears, she closes her eyes, buries the old ache of loss down along with the furious, burning new, and thinks of good things. Of Winter and the old domestic-esque nights, of Jamie and his little laugh, the mirrored image of his father— whom she loves _so much_.

Christina opens her bloodshot eyes, inhales through her nose and resolves to move passed this new, most horrifying update. Gathering her sense of serene, the blonde clings to the safe's interior shelf for assistance steadying herself. Without notice, said shelf suddenly gives way and she finds herself tumbling back to the carpet. Baffled from her sudden fall, Christina blinks, looking down at the faux half-shelf she holds in her hand.

She turns her attention to the safe and sees that upon the removal of the faux-shelf a dip in the existing top shelf becomes visible, revealing the hidden cubby, all but hidden from any curious on lookers if they didn't already happen to known of it's existence. And, stashed away in the secure little space are numerous manila folders. Physical copies of files and reports, containing all manner of topics. Agent Profiles, Mission reports, and other more important mediums. Christina stumbles upon one a bit different from the others.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

Printed on the front are a number of lines in Russian with a title anchored in large font in the center _дело No_ _.17_ , or simply Case Number 17. It doesn't take much for who to guess who this file may be about and, with some hesitation after the first file she'd looked at, she opens it. Her eyes rake over medical reports, scans, debriefing records, photos, and mission summaries.( post/88873041910/be-careful-steve-you-might-not-want-to-pull-on) Some in Russian others in English, all of them horrifying.

Christina looks at a frayed, dog-earred picture— 2x2 in size, printed in black and white— it's an old photograph. James Buchanan Barnes stares back at her, dressed in his military uniform, sergeant's cap proud upon on his neatly cropped hair. His face is youthful, eyes soulful, yet unmarred by the horrors of war and the even worse terrors that would come for him after. Fingers with their neatly painted nails trace longingly over the photo, his jaw, his cheek, the curve of his ear. Christina plucks the picture free of the paperclip and tucks it away in her pocket; a token for safe keeping— should she never see her lover again.

Flitting through the other physical files for anything else of importance, she tucks _дело No_ _.17_ into her purse, deciding to stow away anything she might find that could incriminate the Winter Soldier. Christina hopes that he'll survive the battle going down at the Triskelion, that her tampering will give him the running start he'll need to stay ahead of the numerous government agencies that will no doubt be after him in the wake of this most recent atrocity, that in it's wake he'll remember her and come looking for her.

It's in these instances that she regrets having moved into the new house. How would Winter find them? The blonde contemplates this as she returns the faux-shelf to it's place of origin, restoring the safe to the condition she'd found it in. Fishing a flash drive out of her purse, Christina pushes up from the floor and scrounges up her courage. Without looking she exits out of of the grisly folder containing the incident of her mother's death and navigates the mainframe for important documents pertaining to her lover, stealing away any information she can find before erasing all evidence she'd been there.

Camped out of the patio of a cafe directly across the street from her former apartment in Foggy Bottom, Christina spends the remainder of the evening waiting. The cafe is a direct line of sight to both the entry of apartment complex and the balcony of her old place, as well the fire escape that Winter would use to gain entry. She orders a turkey wrap and three cups of coffee before the chill of the late night chases her indoors. The blonde choose a table near the entrance, spends the next several hours eating and drinking, watching news reports of the attack and the reveal of Hydra within waiting for Winter to appear— hoping that by some miracle he would remember her and come searching in the old places.

Sadly, waiting for him is a fruitless affair. Hours pass. Christina eats two pastries, downs two large cups of cappuccino, and a 20 ounce green tea with honey— waiting anxiously for even a glimpse of the Winter Soldier coming to find her. Before long daylight begins to shine through the cover of clouds, welcoming a new day to Washington D.C., and leaving the single mother feeling empty and hopeless. With a heavy heart Christina gets in her car and makes her way through morning traffic to Deja and Aarav's.

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 _A/N: To be honest I'm rather unsatisfied with this, but I got across what needed to be conveyed, so ehh. In all it just seems underwhelming in comparison to the other chapters and I'm not so pleased with it. Either way the next chapter or so will summarize the next year with Christina and Jamie, as well as what Bucky will be up to, before we meet up with our canon divergence. What are our thoughts? Where do you think this is going to go and are you excited to see it unfold? Either way thank you kindly for reading, leave me some feedback and let me know!_


	5. Good Graces

_Disclaimer: Ya know the drill, I don't own Marvel!_

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"My _past has tasted bitter for years now,_

 _So I wield an iron fist_  
 _Grace is just weakness_  
 _Or so I've been told._  
 _I've been cold, I've been merciless_  
 _But the blood on my hands scares me to death_  
 _Maybe I'm waking up today_

 _I'll be good, I'll be good_  
 _And I'll love the world, like I should_  
 _I'll be good, I'll be good_  
 _For all of the light that I shut out_  
 _For all of the innocent things that I've doubt_  
 _For all of the bruises that I've caused and the tears_  
 _For all of the things that I've done all these years_

 _For all of the sparks that I've stomped out_  
 _For all of the perfect things that I doubt_

 _I'll be good, I'll be good_  
 _And I'll love the world, like I should_  
 _I'll be good, I'll be good_  
 _For all of the times I never could."_  
-I'll Be Good, Jaymes Young

* * *

 _"He longs for the answers, as all of us must_  
 _He longs for the woman who will conquer his lust_  
 _He screams in the night, I scream in the day_  
 _We weep in the evening and lie naked and pray_

 _Night after night, day after day_  
 _Night after night, day after day_  
 _Could you watch my body weaken_  
 _And my mind drift away?"_  
-Night After Night, Lauren Marling

* * *

During the early morning ride to her best friend's home a sense of urgency makes a home in Christina's chest and burns there, listening to the radio as she sits in traffic. Hearing more about the attack and systematic dismantling of S.H.I.E.L.D. makes her realize the magnitude of yesterday's events and what it may mean for her and Jamie.

With the fall of a major intelligence and counter-terrorism agency there is no doubt that other agencies will be closing ranks and checking into the background of their agents, but also tearing into that of the agents that were formerly employed by S.H.I.E.L.D. Even more so the lives of known Hydra members and their families, which would mean Christina and her son. Suddenly as she sits in stand-still traffic, she realizes that the FBI or the CIA aren't her only problem. With the failure of Project Insight and subsequent reveal of Hydra within the walls of S.H.I.E.L.D. it's safe to say that any remaining members of the Neo-Nazi terrorist group would be scrambling in the fray.

As the traffic lifts, she makes a u-turn for her home on Prospect Street, realizing the chaos will give her the opportunity she'll need to slip any of her father's agents who may be under orders to secure her in the event of something like this— Rumlow perhaps, maybe Rollins? And, as close as she is to Brock, there's no doubt in her mind that he had a hand in bringing Project Insight into play, and that she can't have him getting close to her or to Jamie. So by the time she pulls up outside her best friend's home, she's made up her mind. They have to disappear. Even if just for a little while. Long enough for the dust to settle at the very least.

She packs up important documents, all the necessities, everything her one year old might need or want, as well as enough clothes to get them by for a couple weeks. With all the essentials packed and ready to go, Christina assures herself that this is the right thing to do. Winter didn't come for her. If he hadn't the night prior, even with new found freedom thanks to the scrambling of what remains of Hydra, then he's unlikely to do so in the near future. And, the single mother regrettably doesn't have the luxury to wait for him, not when some odd Hydra member could remember their existence and sweep them into obscurity.

By 9 AM she arrives at her destination. Marching up to Deja and Aarav's Capitol Hill Rowhouse, Christina is greeted by Aarav before she can even make the front stoop. His face is serious, if not concerned, as he opens the door for her and the blonde dashes through the entryway. "Jamie and I have to leave," She starts saying, making a bee line for her son. The boy, of course, is brimming with joy to see her, after an entire night away from his mother. The little boy raises both arms, grabby hands opening and closing in a gesture that he wants to be carried.

Christina scoops the boy up, checking him over before tucking him against her hip. "I can't tell you anything right now, but I promise I'll get in touch once I'm sure everything's alright." She turns to her friends and is met by stern, unsettled expressions. The married couple are concerned, if not cross about something and it puts the single mother on edge. Christina is fairly sure she knows what about. By now it's been nearly seventeen hours since Black Widow as dumped all of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra's encrypted files on the internet. At first they were unintelligible, but after a few hours at the mercy of a good hacker the secrets began to spill.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

On Deja's face is written everything she needs to know; this discussion will not be an easy one. "Did you know?" Deja says after a long pause. The television is playing in the background, yet another news report on the turmoil of the government in the wake of yesterday's events. Christina gives her best friend a withering look, even as the brunette continues. "Did you know about Hydra and your father?" Christina heaves a frustrated sigh. What to say? Spill the truth? Withhold information? In this situations what's the greater good? "Did you know what was going to happen at the Triskelion?" The look on Deja's face is legitimately horrified, as though she might believe Christina have to been in on it. "I can't talk about this. I have to g—"

"Did you know your father was a _fucking Nazi_ , Chris?! The question is not that hard!" Covering her son's ears, the blonde gives her friend a shaken look and begins to gather up her sons's belongings. His little toys, his favorite blanket, his sippy cup. Her reaction, of course, is all the answer. "Of course you did! Did you know his terrorist group was organizing an attack _on the city we live in and didn't tell anyone_?"

As Christina moves about the living room gathering her child's things, Deja berates her with questions, angry and hurt that everything she thinks she'd known had been a lie. Christina and Alexander Pierce are one thing, but Hydra, the attack, the fall of a government agency? What's the truth, how many lied had she told in all the years they'd known each other? Is there anything to Christina Pierce that's real?

"I didn't know who to trust, okay?!" Cries the single mother, "I wasn't sure how high it went, who was Hydra and who wasn't!" Christina's eyes are wide, crazed, brimmed with tears, as she cradles her son close to her. "Telling someone could have meant a death sentence! Not just for me, but for Jamie! I couldn't let them get their hands on my son. You have no idea the things they would have done to us!" No matter the cost, not matter the toll, James is all that she has. Winter is gone, her father is dead, her friend is all but turning on her, but no one will harm her son and for that it was all worth it; morality be damned.

Deja's eyebrows furrow and Aarav places a calming hand on the pregnant woman's shoulder. As a mother to be, it's a notion that the brunette can comprehend but not fully understand. She would do anything to protect her child too. But, Christina's circumstances aren't the kind that can be swept under the rug as maternal instinct. "Who is Jamie's father, Chrissie?" Deja questions, but knows by the fierce defensive glint in her best friend's blue eyes that she doesn't intend to enlighten her. "I can't tell you."

Between them little James gurgles curiously, tugging at his mother insistently, not understanding the commotion. His fussing quickly defuses the thick tension. "Please know that I didn't know all of this would happen, but Jamie and I have to get out of town." And, with that Christina shoulders her diaper bag and makes for the door. Deja slumps, defeated, onto the couch and hangs her head, but Aarav dashes forward and stops the blonde as she's pushing her stroller out the front door.

"Listen, I get that something's wrong and I don't believe you had anything to do with yesterday's attacks. Family is the most important thing and no matter what Dey is saying, we want you and the little guy to be safe." He says, passing an wad of bills and a sticky note into her hand. "It's not much, but I want you to take it. And, take this too," Christina reads to yellow scrap of paper and discovers an address scribbled in Aarav's neat writing. "It's my sister's place. It's empty right now because they're vacationing in Goa. It's a safe place for you to lie low until everything settles down." And, Christina gratefully takes his advice.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

After a week and a half tucked away in the suburbs of Baltimore, undisturbed by neither Hydra, nor the FBI or CIA, Christina becomes confident that they might be able to return to D.C. and go on with their lives. But, to be safe the single mother searches up local apartments and available careers in the Baltimore area, in the event they need to run again. A move that she's glad for in the near future.

Christina's life is essentially demolished after the public learns of her father's affiliation to Hydra. Though she, surprisingly, isn't brought in by any government agencies— yet— everyone that knows her father looks on her with a critical eye. No one aside from Deja has directly questioned the extent of her knowledge, but she can see the looks on their faces. So she isn't surprised when she's called in to the conference room by Anika and Lisa.

The _fixer_ knows how this conversation is going to go from the moment she enters the room. But, she can't deny the disappointment the sinks into her gut when her bosses ask her to resign. "In light of what's happened in the last week, we're afraid that we'll have to terminate your employment with us." Lisa says, face pained and eyebrows knitted. The blonde nods, but it's hollow, empty, void. "I'm so sorry, Christina. We'll give you glowing recommendations where ever you go, but we can't allow you to stay." Anika tries to comfort but the single, now unemployed, mother is stoic, like all of her emotions have clammed up and receded inside of her.

With little other options Christina decides to move herself and her son to Baltimore, with the help of Aarav— who's trusted cousins are more than happy to babysit Jamie— and a Valkyrie contact— who owes her a favor. She goes on ahead, taking a few days to find a secure place for them to live and a new job that will pay enough for her to continue providing for her son. When the perfect home is procured and a great company happily hires _Gaby Barnes_ , she returns to D.C. and packs up her entire life into twelve boxes— this time without Rumlow there to assist her.

In fact she doesn't know where he is, she hasn't seen hide nor hair of him since shortly before the attack on the Triskelion, if he'd died in the collapse he was never named among the casualties, and if he'd survived then he'd made to move to reveal himself. He's either gone into hiding or still buried beneath the rubble, and to be honest Christina doesn't know which she prefers. He'd been good to her, to her boy, but he still wanted to kill millions of people for Hydra to enforces their new world order. She can't stand for that, no matter what good she'd seen in his past, so she's grateful for his absence.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

With a pair of new aliases and all the corresponding documents to boot, _Gabriela Christine Barnes and Jamie Grant Barnes_ settle into their new lives in Baltimore, Maryland. Christina easily falls into the role of _Gaby Barnes_ , takes well to her new job as an in-house compliance attorney for a local mortgage loan servicing company. It's terribly boring, but it's a good job. She's makes enough money to pay for their gated community home, enough to provide all their necessities, enough to spoil her one and a half year old; all of this without having to dip into her savings.

Soon the world moves on from the attack at the Triskelion. Her father's name— though sullied— is swallowed by the media, all digested and forgotten in the wake of other news, new stories. A debate over national security and more routine background checks become the focus from San Diego to Boston. Every government agent across the country is given a thorough look over. And as the searches are made, the nation begins to worm out the cockroach Hydra bastards that had been hidden away within their walls.

 _Gaby_ and _Jamie Barnes_ go on with their lives. The part of them that longs for the Winter Solder, for James Buchanan Barnes, for the absent father— begins to dull. _Gaby_ focuses on work, turns down dates, and flirty co-workers, and good natured blind dates. Everyone tells her that she's a model parent, even being a single mother. And, it's clear to everyone that meets him that little Jamie isn't lacking in any love, even without his father in the picture.

Even though their new place isn't the Georgetown Colonial that Christina had painstakingly cared for, decorated, loved— they settle into their gated community house and make it a home. It's a nice place; two storey, two bedroom, two bath, an attached garage. They get an emotional support animal. An adorable little black and white Siberian Husky, with steel colored eyes that remind her of her lover's— make her ache for the old domestic instances. The Soldier would like it here, tucked away from the world. A little universe all their own with their son and their dog. They name the puppy _Winter_ in his honor. Jamie is pleased with his new playmate, his babysitter, their new house. He and Christina are happy in Baltimore, until they aren't anymore.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

Across a great ocean, on the other side of the world, five thousand miles apart, the Winter Soldier lies low in Bucharest, Romania. He gets a shitty little apartment— with what money he can theoretically beg, borrow and steal— and keeps to himself as he attempts to pick up all the little shards of _James Buchanan Barnes_ and piece him back together. A broken, jagged, mirror image. Tries to mold himself anew. Not the war hero, Howling Commando, best friend of Steve Rogers (Captain America?), honorable man. But, not the cold, mechanic, Winter Soldier either. The first six months are suffering and hell, but much less so than the last seventy years— so he calls it progress.

Some days are harder than others. After the money he'd made— on the ship he'd stowed away to Romania on— has near dried up, he's forced to turn to day labor. The people are nosey and a little discriminatory, but he can pay his bills and feed himself. The former Asset finds that to be the most tedious, has to remind himself when it's meal time, that real people eat three times a day. When the memories return, he misses Christina's cooking. Sometimes he even thinks he might remember his mother's.

Some days the sun rises and his mind is cloudless and clear, he can work and shop at the market, and quietly help his little old neighbors with errands. Other days the night terrors are so rampant his neighbors are banging on the wall demanding silence. His mind's eye is painted red with blood. So much on his hands, names and dates stamped in history, smeared in crimson. Sometimes the horror, the dark, the cold, is so vast and endless that it becomes an abyss. A void, a black hole that spreads over the emptiness and swallows him whole.

He wakes screaming with the memory of each kill, every string of fate snipped by cold metal hands, snuffed out too soon. Of all the strangers, _friends_ , faces unknown and those he can recall. Some days in the mirror the Soldier sees a broken soul, other days the devil stares back at him with cold, dead eyes, _ready to comply_. But, _by god_ , does he try. On those days he promises to be a better man. _He wants to be good_.

The next six months come and go easier than the first. With most of his memories in tact, he tries to arrange the shattered fray. Puzzle pieces with all the wrong edges, nothing quite seems to fit. Where do the two lives in his head end and begin? The cold, stoic murder, the tragic war hero. At the end he's neither, someone in between. Someone hanging in the balance, tugged back an fourth by the two separate entities, both begging for a fighting chance. Sometimes he wants to end them both.

In those instances— cold, stainless steel weapon weighting heavy in his hand— he thinks of his Christina. His lover, the only rare ray of sunlight in his long, long life. Her windchime laugh, her soothing voice, her tender hands. The gold of sunshine in her hair, her eyes the color ocean blue, her lips that shame the reddest rose, the soft column of her throat as he squeezes it in his hand— the _not-_ Winter Soldier crumbles as he thinks of the fear, the tears in her eyes, the resignation when last they'd met.

He could have killed her. Could have snuffed out all her light, her burning flame, along with all the rest. Could have lost the only thing he'd come to care for in his _seventy years_ of servitude. He will cling to those memories— so good, and pure, and kind that he nearly believes them to be a dream. A fairytale concocted in his delirium, to ease his lonely heart. Wherever she is, Not-James, Not-Winter— is glad she's safe and happy somewhere on the other side of the world. The same goes for the man on the bridge _Steve Rogers_.

Not-Bucky kept his distance in the months after D.C., from Captain America and his friend with the wings. Samuel Wilson, he learns, is better at tailing him than the Not-Soldier anticipates, but he's able to keep him clear of his little haven in Bucharest. Half of him wants to let the man catch him, help him reconnect with Steve, help him get his mind right. But, at the start he hadn't known who to trust, who was who and what was what. His head was mush and every night he woke with screams that rattled the earth. He'd been a mess, a danger to anyone too close to him, and frankly to himself.

But, he'd worked through it. Hated the man he'd found buried in the rubble of his soul, the war hero, _the good man_ , the man who'd died for nothing, who'd become a monster. Not-Bucky salvages what he can and builds the rest anew, grateful for the distance, happy with the knowledge that Steve and Christina will be safe _far_ away from him. Hydra won't come for him and he won't hurt them by accident. Until suddenly one of them isn't safe anymore.

The commotion in Sokovia, a few countries over, is all over the news as the disaster unfolds and Captain America _Steven Grant Rogers, punk who wore newspapers in his shoes_ and his Avengers are present in the fray— killing murder-bots, escorting civilians to safety, being _heroes_ , laying down their lives. Sort-of Bucky realizes that the only person left from his old life is a stupid, reckless, idiot who's willing to die doing what he believes is right.

He realizes that Steve, _Captain America_ , could lose his life saving the world on any given mission. In the wake of the massive devastation that leaves a crater in the earth and hundreds, maybe thousands, dead or uprooted from their homes— Bucky realizes that time is precious. That by some miracle the two of them came out of ice, existing in the same time and universe with each other _again_ , against all odds, and that every day is _precious_. So he stops hiding and lets Sam Wilson _take him home_.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

A little more than a year passes before all the seams burst out of the new life that Christina has spun for them in Baltimore, not long after the disaster in Sokovia. With mention of the Avengers and the newly reformed S.H.I.E.L.D. saving lives abroad, the agency's former mess and affiliation to Hydra is once again brought up. Meaning her father, meaning his personal ties that may have had prior knowledge of the attack, meaning herself.

She finds herself sitting in her manager's office for the second time in two years, champing at the bit, and _knowing_ that it's over here too. At the very least the mortgage loan servicing company gives her the week's notice. By Friday she's packing their lives back into boxes and booking a flight for Paris, France. She'd spent the week looking into residences abroad and has contacts in France. After a thorough once-over of her life, she realizes she has nothing holding her to America anymore.

Jamie doesn't understand that they're leaving again, can't grasp the concept because he's so young— nearly two years old now— but Christina can sense his distress. She promises he'll like their new home and prays France will be good to them, at least better than the States have been. The night before their scheduled to fly out, she tucks her fussy little boy into bed after two hours of struggling to lull him to sleep. Jamie is a smart child and extremely attuned to his mother and her moods. When Christina is distressed the little boy always seems to know, seems to mirror her anxiety.

They're both on edge as their final day in Baltimore narrows in and that night Jamie takes a long time falling asleep. When the single mother finally manages to tuck him in, she finds herself in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of wine and brooding over all the happens in the last year of her life. Christina sighs, trying not to think the _could-haves_ and _should-have-beens_. Baltimore had been good to them, even if the work had been boring, and she'd been looking over her shoulder at every turn. She's sad to have to leave, but unable to dwell on it any further when her doorbell suddenly rings, yanking her out of her reverie.

Christina casts a curious glance at the entryway, worrying over who could possibly have any business with her at nine o'clock on week day. Arming herself with a taser, the blonde slinks over to the door, checking the security feed before daring to open it. Outside her door are three agents, agents with the newly reformed S.H.I.E.L.D., she presumes. One of them rings the doorbell a second time, more insistently.

"Christina Pierce," the second one calls through the door, startling the single mother. _How did they find them?_ "We know you're in there. You've been living under the alias Gabriela Barnes, but you had to know the agency would come looking for you eventually." Of course she'd known. But, at the time she couldn't know who to trust at S.H.I.E.L.D., who may be Hydra, who might be out to kill them.

The third agent begins to knock on the door, with so much force that it startles the blonde and wakes Jamie in the other room. "We have a warrant for your arrest, Ms. Pierce, but you could avoid causing a commotion is you chose to come in willingly." With Jamie crying in the distance, Christina puts down her taser on the entryway console and opens the door with a frustrated look. As her son wails in the background, the blonde places her arms on her hips and shoots the team a dirty look. "Arrest me then, but put hands on my son and know I'll end you all." The agents allow her to collect Jamie and their necessities before carting them into a black SVU and off to a secure location.

* * *

 _A/N: Well we finally got to learn about what Bucky was up to in the gap year between TWS and AOU, as well as Jamie and Christina. We're gearing up for out reunion in the next chapter! Who's excited? Thank you for reading and feel free to leave some feedback to let me know what we're hoping for in the story as it unfolds._


	6. Honey, You're Familiar Like My Mirror

_Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, the usual drill._

* * *

 _A/N: Reunited (well sort of) and it feels so good. Full chapter title is intended to be "_ _Honey, You're Familiar Like My Mirror Years Ago"_

* * *

 _"Rows of houses sound asleep_  
 _Only street lights notice me_

 _I am desperate, if nothing else_  
 _In a holding pattern to find myself_

 _I talk in circles, I watch for signals, for a clue_

 _How to feel different, how to feel new_  
 _Like science fiction, bending truth_

 _No one can unring this bell_  
 _Unsound this alarm, unbreak my heart new_  
 _God knows, I am dissonance_  
 _Waiting to be swiftly pulled into tune_

 _I'll go anywhere you want_  
 _Anywhere you want_  
 _Anywhere you want me_

 _I know the further I go, the harder I try, only keeps my eyes closed_  
 _And somehow I've fallen in love with this middle ground at the cost of my soul_

 _Yet I know, if I stepped aside, released the controls, you would open my eyes_  
 _That somehow, all of this mess is just my attempt to know the worth of my life_

 _Made of precious metals_  
 _Precious metals_  
 _Precious metals inside_

 _I'll go anywhere you want_  
 _Anywhere you want_  
 _Anywhere you want me"_

* * *

Five hours later, the pair of them arrive at a massive compound, complete with jet landing pads, laboratory facilities, residential quarters, and training areas. Christina recognizes the telltale _A_ symbol and knows that she and her son are about to tangle with the Avengers, which is not what she'd been expecting when she'd been arrested by S.H.I.E.L.D.

She's lead by two of the agents who'd arrested her down a number of hallways, carrying Jamie, and leading Winter along by his leash. They're directed into a lobby area of sorts, where they're greeted by a familiar face. Agent Maria Hill, Director Fury's right hand, stands before Christina and greets her professionally. "Ms. Pierce," she nods, turning a regarding eye to the little boy in the blonde's arm. "Agent Hill," Christina replies, shifting the child in her grip, "This is my son, Jamie." The spy nods, before picking up a series of files.

"You've being detained in order for us to debrief you. I'm sorry we had to arrest you, Christina, but you were a difficult woman to find." Maria Hill regards, "If you would leave your son and your dog with Agent Hobbs, I'd like to begin right away." Bristling suddenly, Christina begins to back away. All calm and understanding gone in an instant. "I'm not leaving Jamie with anyone." Growls the blonde. Sighing, Maria attempts to reason with her, "Now, Ms. Pierce, no harm will come to yo—"

"— _I'm not leaving my son with anyone!_ " Christina yells, drawing the attention of a group of surrounding S.H.I.E.L.D. members, on of home inches over casually. "Hi!" A man suddenly interrupts, placing himself between the furious mother and the annoyed agents. A five-foot-nine, sandy-blonde haired man in his mid-forties inserts himself into the conversation and Christina instantly recognizes him from television. "You must be Christina Pierce, I'm—"

"An Avenger," the blonde cuts him off. The man chuckles, shaking her hand, "Clint Barton, but yeah, an Avenger." The Archer's eyes crinkle as he greets little Jamie with a wave, "I'm _really_ great with kids. I could look after him while Hill debriefs you real quick," offers the Avenger, "If you'd be more comfortable with that?" Reluctantly, Christina complies.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

So she files into the sterile white interrogation room behind Agent Hill, where she's left to stew for a good twenty minutes. Only half an hour later— when the single mother is nearly at wit's end, bored out of her mind and worried after her little boy— does the door open and two people finally enter. Ever-blonde and intimidating, Captain America, tails Agent Hill, looking cross and serious.

To him Christina Pierce may very well be a traitor to the nation, one with Hydra's nefarious schemes. After all she was often present. With her father, with Rumlow and Rollins, at S.H.I.E.L.D., even among the recorded comings and goings of Hydra's D.C. headquarters, The Vault. There could be no denying her knowledge of the terrorist group's existence.

Even among S.T.R.I.K.E.'s records did Rumlow make mission reports of tasks carried out for Christina Pierce, though the nature of those takes were not noted. Regardless, Steve has little doubt that the single mother is guiltless. It's merely a matter of how much guilt? What all had she known? What all could she have prevented?

"Miss Pierce," addresses the Avenger, looking almost cross as he and Agent Hill sit opposite her at the cold, steel table. Christina locks eyes with him, recalling the last time they'd met— before the Wall of Valor— and how unawares they'd both been. Neither could have known what the future held for them or that they'd be seated across from each other in an interrogation room after she and her boy are subsequently detained.

"Captain Rogers," replies the blonde woman, twiddling the rings on her fingers nervously, "Agent Hill, how long will this take? I want to see Jamie." The mother is clearly distressed, uncomfortable being away from her son for so long, especially being left with strangers. "It may be a short while, Ms. Pierce. We have a lot to discuss," The pair watches the anxiety bloom over Christina's face, but the female agent bolsters on, "In particular we'd like to debrief you about the attack on the Triskelion and you're subsequent disappearance afterwards."

She bristles immediately, "Look, I didn't know what they were planning with Project Insight, but I couldn't just wait around for Hydra to regroup and come back for us!" Hisses the insecure, frightened, now thirty-one year old, single mother. She hadn't any other choice! She'd had a son to protect! "You don't know what they would have done to us if the truth came out! We had to hide! I thought I'd done my best, I thought we'd hidden well enough. How did you even _find us_?"

Captain America and Agent Hill can see Christina beginning to unhinge. It'd been a long year for the single mother, hell a long decade, if she really thought about it. This hadn't been the life she'd dreamed of, only the one she'd been dealt. By all standards Christina Pierce had been through hell. Her life had been uprooted, everything she thought she'd known was stripped from her. She'd been kidnapped, nearly killed numerous times, met the Winter Soldier, fell in lust— and later love— with him, bared his son. The very fabric of her existence had been turned on head, but she'd taken it in strides, even thrived. Until her father and his Neo-Nazi terrorism group had tried to take over the world.

"Your aliases were run through the TSC's no-fly list and flagged when they couldn't find a cohesive history," Maria Hill summarizes and Christina begins to noticeably relax, "The FBI passed it over to us when they concluded the aliases to be yours." The single mother is nodding solemnly, but at the very least she's comforted knowing it was an unavoidable mistake. A beat of silence passes before the blonde begins speaking. "You know I really thought this could be our change to start over. Far away from here and everything that went over in the last seven years..."

Captain Rogers watches her fiddling with her jewelry, sees her exhausted eyes and bone-tired expression. He knows that look, has seen his colleagues wearing it, has worn it many times himself. "I got Jamie out of all of it though," A grin breaks out over her pink mouth despite her exhaustion. Quietly Hill reaches over the table and touches Christina's clasped hands, "Why don't we start at the beginning then," the agent insists. So she does.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

In another part of the building the former Winter Soldier, James Buchanan Barnes, has taken to the training facilities as per his usual routine since coming to the New Avengers Compound. The place is abuzz with agents of the reformed S.H.I.E.L.D. agency and the increase of people has the ex-assassin on edge. Steve is nowhere to be seen and Bucky's nerves are raw from the influx of strangers wandering about in what has slowly become his new safe space. Running his fifth mile in twenty minutes, Bucky keeps running, despite the endless static that's begun to set in. The obnoxious buzzing that echos in his skull from time to time. He finds redefining one's self as a person to be suffocating, on some days the two different entities in his head are raging and others they're silent as a grave.

On this day the good old Howling Commando, Bucky Barnes, and the cruel assassin, the Winter Soldier are dead silent and all of his distractions— Steve and Bird Brain (Sam Wilson)— are off to their own devices. It's only the convenient timing of three other agents— members of Hill's team, who are temporarily using the facility to conduct interrogations— that are able to disrupt the endless loop of static and his footfalls slamming down on the treadmill. The metal armed assassin is silently grateful for the interruption, he thinks.

The agents— who've yet to lay eyes on him, as he slows to a jog— are discussing their most recent catch, a suspected Hydra operative who'd been living under an assumed name. Apparently the woman is so important that Captain America would be sitting in on her interrogation. Bucky slams his flesh hand down on the stop button and takes off for the exit, startling the group of S.H.I.E.L.D. ops as he passes.

 _That's where that punk's been off to_ , thinks the former assassin, as he marches off toward the interrogation hall, despite his casual gear. Whoever this Hydra agent is, they must be vital if Steve has inserted himself. Dressed in fitted sweatpants and a hoodie, the ex-Winter Soldier makes a bee line across the compound and nearly mows down the door before he actually stops to get a good look at exactly _who_ is sitting in the interrogation room with Agent Hill and Captain America. His goddamn heart skips a beat when he finally does.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

Leaving out the frequent sexcapades— and the entirety of her relationship with an infamous assassin— Christina Pierce tells her story. Explains how in 2008 she'd been an average university student, until she was kidnapped by the enemies of her father's terrorist group and then saved by the Winter Soldier.

Whether or not Captain America and S.H.I.E.L.D. have learned of her connection to James Buchanan Barnes, Christina isn't going to be breaking the news herself. She imagines he's off somewhere rebuilding his life. Part of her wonders what his new life is like, if he remembers her, if he's happy and free, _wherever he is_.

"And, that's the extent of your knowledge?" Hill asks, making notes in her file as she speaks. Captain Rogers is seated rigid, hanging onto every word as Christina speaks. The blonde woman nods, eyes down cast, bottom lip caught between her teeth and Steve _knows_ that she's lying. They'd since learned how Hydra— namely Agent Rumlow— had helped her with her consulting for Valkyrie and they'd found documentation of her comings and goings at _The Vault_.

In the search of her Baltimore home the team have found stolen Hydra files about the Winter Soldier, likely stolen from her father, and then there was the evidence in her wallet. Steve _knows_ she has a connection to his best friend, is all but ready to call her out on it, before the interrogation room door is bursting open and the latter is marching through.

Christina Pierce freezes at the sudden intrusion, only startled at first, before she turns her gaze to the figure interrupting the debriefing and damn near shoots out of her skin, standing suddenly and startling the two agents as she does. The Asset, the Soldier, Winter, _James Bucky Barnes_ , stands breathless only a few feet from her. He looks as startled as she feels, neither of them having expected this sudden reunion.

Bucky is short of breath, confused but _wired_ at the sight of her. Her tired eyes, her mussed blonde locks, her torn jeans and oversized cardigan. _She's not a dream_. His lover is a real, _tangible_ person that he can touch and feel, not some figment of his imagination. He hadn't dreamed her, hadn't made her up to comfort his own tortured mind. She's real; physical, solid, concrete, and she's sitting right in front of him.

Agent Hill and Captain Rogers are startled by the sudden interruption, even more so when they notice it's Bucky Barnes who'd caused the unanticipated intrusion. The former Winter Soldier is frozen where he stands, eyeing Christina as if he's seeing in color for the very first time. Steve doesn't think he's ever seen Bucky looking quite so full of awe and raw emotion, maybe not even before the war. Hell, the man looks so vulnerable, like he could fall to pieces, and the woman hasn't even said anything yet.

"Chr—" The ex-assassin nearly chokes on his words. It reminds the single mother of the times when his voice would sound hoarse from lack of use, the memories makes tears burn behind her eyes. "Christina?" Bucky finally questions, his voice soft and almost helpless. The woman chokes up too, realizing in that instance, that he'd never said her name out loud before. At a loss for what to do, how to react, what to say, she merely whimpers out a quiet, "Hi," before the waterworks start.

The former assassin doesn't know what to do with himself, watching the little blonde as she begins to weep. But, he knows enough to cross the distance between them and extend a comforting hand. As soon as his hand touches her cheek, Christina falls apart, clings to his shell-shocked frame, presses her forehead into his chest. Bucky isn't good at giving solace, that'd always been Christina's part. She'd held him to together at every instance he'd been coming apart at the seams.

He's spent months all alone, a year's worth of lonely nights with no one to comfort him. Wary of any company and hesitant to reach out for anything, even if just to ground himself, so he doesn't know how to make her feel better. The ex-Winter Soldier simply folds her in his grip and tries to quiet her cries.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

Captain America and Agent Hill are still and sidelined at the sight before them. Maria feels to be critically assessing and Steve is grasping at straws. How well did Christina Pierce know the Winter Soldier? How had they become close? What was their relationship, if Bucky is this comfortable making physical contact with her, even without Hydra in his head? The blonde can't be sure, but he knows that Christina Pierce can't fully be trusted. Not this easily and certainly not quite yet.

The Captain flashes back to that instance in the Triskelion lobby, standing at the _Wall of Valor_. The single mother, with her baby boy balance on her hip, lingering before the memorial plaque of _Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes_ and whispering to her nine month old. Both of their hands stretched out over the memoria, fingers tracing over his engraved name. She'd known then, that Bucky was the Winter Soldier. That he'd been a prisoner of war for _seventy years_. And, she'd done nothing about it. Steve Rogers turns cold at the thought of it, struggles to understand how Bucky can so willingly wrap her in his arms.

The emotional reunion is short lived though, partly because of the awkward bumbling and partly because of the present audience. Teary eyed and exhausted, Christina reluctantly pulls back from her lover's embrace. The former Asset allows her, but remains within arm's length, drawn in like a gravitational pull. He watches her closely, observes the way the tension wound tight in her bones seems to seep out with every passing second at his side. Bucky can relate. They're home together. Even he feels an ache he hadn't been aware of, dwindling and disappearing now that they'd found each other once more.

Finally settling his attentions on her interrogators, the former assassin regards Steve and his familiar stern expression, takes in Maria Hill's raised brows, and comes to his senses. "It would appear you know each other." The female concludes, rather obviously. Under the weight of their judgmental gaze, he senses Christina become small, guarded. Bucky raises his metal arm to settle around her waist. "If you don't mind," He says, directly to Steve and Steve alone, "I'd like to explain."

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

Privately, after Agent Hill excuses herself with the assurance that Captain America would take their statements instead, the former Winter Soldier explains his relationship with Christina Pierce to his best friend. He sides his lover back into her seat and pulls out the chair beside her. To the best of his ability, he clarifies the delicate balance of their relationship, and how— when in his right mind— they pair would partake in an intimate relationship, kept secret from his superiors, as well as her friends and family— namely her father.

It's fucked up, the whole circumstance. Christina knows it and inserts it in that exact phrasing at multiple instances of their conversation. Their relationship, specifically the ever dubious manner of it, often wore on her. Even into the present, but at the very least hearing Bucky's interpretation of their relationship is comforting.

It appears, that despite his mind being far a field the Winter Soldier had loved her in their time together. And, even sweeter, after taking an entire year to reassess and rehabilitate himself, piece together than man he'd once been, Bucky Barnes— or whoever he is now— came to the conclusion that he loves her too. It's reassuring and eases her ever raging guilt.

Working around the more difficult aspects of their relationship— like Pavlov's death and their last time together at The Vault— Christina and Bucky attempt to bring Captain America up to speed. It's trying, but he holds her hand, tucked out of sight beneath the table the entire time. His big, warm hand clasping hers, their fingers intertwined, his thumb brushing comfortingly back and forth over the back of her hand. Steve Rogers is still hesitant, his broad shoulders stiff and squared back as he listens to the pair.

"—Then that August you transferred to D.C., Captain Rogers, and they reassigned him to the Russian sector." Christina explains, turning to Bucky as if to inform him specifically. "I didn't realize it then, but they couldn't have the Winter Soldier and Captain America running around in the same city," She turns back to Steve, "On the off chance you ran into each other."

Something aching and pained blooms in Bucky's chest and before Christina can continue he finds himself interrupting her. "Did you know who I was?" Questions the former assassin suddenly and it has Christina back peddling. She begins to shake her head, offering a haste "No," but Captain America is quick to cut in, pulling a small black and white photograph from the interrogation file.

"She's lying," Steve insists, "This photo was in her wallet when she was arrested." The ex Winter Soldier turns toward his best friend, observes the frayed, dog-earred photo of him dressed in his military uniform, donning his sergeant's cap upon his head. Bucky turns to her, eyebrows pinched, form rigid, visibly bothered by this turn of events.

Never in all the time they'd been together had he suspected she'd been manipulating him. He'd never thought her to be working with Hydra, acting as another puppeteer to keep him in his place and make sure of where his loyalties lied. But, this new development could very well mean she'd been doing just that.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

Eyebrows furrowing, Christina angles herself toward him and shakes her head. With her free hand she reaches out for the photo the Captain had produced and traces her fingers over it fondly. "I didn't find out until you returned to major operations in Europe," She assures, smiling sadly down at the worn photograph.

"After they pulled this guy—" the blonde gestures pointedly in Steve's direction "—outta the ice and then the Battle of New York happened, the Smithsonian revamped their Captain America exhibit." Christina begins to explain and the two super soldiers hunker down to hear her out. Her demeanor has changed, the tension is her shoulders easing, and her voice softening as she recalls. "My friend, Deja, wanted to go see it. Her fiance had been in New York when everything happened and—" the woman looks the super hero in the eye as she goes on "—they were just teeming with gratitude for the Avengers, so I went with them."

Tears gather in the corner of her eyes and she squeezes Bucky's hand. "There was this memorial, _A Fallen Comrade_ , it said." The former Asset squeezes back, leaning in toward her when her voice cracks and trying to offer more silent comfort for his lover as she looks between him and the photo of the man he once was. "The picture was old and the hair was wrong, but I knew that face." Christina tells them fondly, finally relinquishing the picture and taking both the ex assassin's hands in her own. "Suddenly everything made sense. I knew they'd come to collect all of my dad's records and I didn't know where you were, if you were still alive, so I took his file on you. That photo was in there."

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

Captain Rogers makes to protest. There are plenty of things for her to answer for. Rumlow doing her dirty work at Valkyrie, the dubious nature of her relationship with Bucky, how she'd _coincidentally_ named her son after Bucky without having known his true identity, that time in front of the _Wall of Valor_. Why hadn't she told him then? She'd known him to be James Buchanan Barnes, that they were toying with his mind, that they'd dehumanized him for _seventy years_ , and still she'd said nothing to no one.

Steve's objections however, go unheard, much to his dismay, thanks to the sudden intrusion of Avenger, Agent Clint Barton— and the screaming two year old in his arms. " _Mummy, mummy, mummy!_ " whines the brunette little boy on repeat, arms extended in the direction of his mother as he wales and cries. Christina is automatically out of her seat, brushing passed Captain America and the former Winter Soldier without hesitation.

Bucky's heart rate spikes at the sight before him. His lover, Christina Pierce, scooping up a little child, whining and crying for his mother. The little boy eases almost instantly, his waling growing softer with every moment back in his mother's arms. Christina is this child's mother. For an instant a jealous heat settles in his ribs as he considers who the boy's father could be, but it dissipates as quickly as it'd blossomed. He observes the child— who has now all but ceased his crying. His brunette hair, his grey-blue eyes, his skin tone which is a shade darker than his mother's and a distinct match to his own.

Bucky doesn't need to be told that the little boy before him is his son, he quickly comes to that conclusion on his own, but as if somewhere some higher power had overheard the whisper of his doubt, the two year old looks right at him, teary eyed and hiccuping and suddenly smiles. He reaches out two chubby little arms and happily exclaims, " _Daddy!_ "

* * *

 _A/N: Well Bucky finally caught up with his family! How are you hoping for things to go? I'm excited for the oncoming domestic fluff with the Barnes family, what about y'all? Thank you for reading and feel free to leave some feedback to let me know what we're hoping for in the story as it unfolds!_


	7. Bone of My Bones, Flesh of My Flesh

_**A/N:** I crapped out this chapter because I had the first half of it like a month ago and then lost entirely all inspiration for this. It vaguely felt like when you used to shit out nonsense essays for school, total déjà vu moment my guy. As much as I love "update! sooner/faster/when wills?" they motivate me .00% and wanna make me eat my laptop. Gotta love anxiety. Anyway, I've been high key dissociating since whenever last I updated and basically just depression hibernating, fun times. I'm working through some BS, so me updating is gonna be far a field, if you get my flow. So, sorry y'all. Anyway gear up for this hella short chapter._

* * *

Bucky Barnes flounders for a moment, as everyone seems to be moving in slow motion around him. Steve is standing, moving to join Clint, who is crowded close to Christina and her son— _their son. James Buchanan Barnes has a son_ — apologizing for startling the boy. Tony Stark marches in after them, still in his Iron Man suit, absent the face-plate. Apparently the suit and it's mask had frightened the two year old, and only reuniting with his mother had quelled his little outburst.

Brazen and audacious as always the billionaire doesn't miss a beat in eyeing the pretty blonde and moving to introduce himself, but Christina has her arms full, holding her little boy, who's declaration of " _Daddy!_ " instantaneously grapples everyone's attention. All of the adults go quiet, turning to watch Christina's two year old, arms outstretched toward Bucky with grabby hands, chubby little fingers opening and closing as he reaches for his father.

Captain Rogers exchanges astonished looks with Clint and Tony, before turning toward the former assassin with a strained brow. Bucky'd moved, finally, coming to stand before his lover and the little mirror image of him without a word. James Barnes reaches out a hesitant hand, to the little boy, who eagerly clasps at his fingers. Steve can see that his best friend is confused, rattled by the sudden introduction of his would-be son, stupefied by the prospect of this suddenly emerging family that'd revealed themselves.

The Avenger can tell by the ex-Winter Soldier's expression that he'd had no idea about the boy or his existence. He'd never met his son, hadn't known he even had one. "Let's give them the room, guys." Steve says, voice taking that same authoritative _Captain_ tone and soon the three men are filing out the door, leaving Bucky with the single mother and _their son_.

Christina is quiet as her lover takes them in, observing her and the little boy in her arms with the fondest and simultaneously most heartbreaking expression. Eyebrows pinched and expression hesitant, he glances up at the blonde when the two year old reaches out for him again, nervous and unsure. " _Daddy!_ " Hoots the little boy, wriggling in his mother's arms. The petite woman manages a laugh, a doting expression on her face as she glances back and forth between her two boys. "Yeah, sweetie," she coos, "It's your daddy."

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

"Can...can I hold him?" the Super Soldier asks timidly, looking at the pair as if they're a mirage, a dream he's sure to wake up from. His lover is here. She wants him, all his evils aside. They have a son, a little carbon copy of him, and the boy shows no fear or hesitation. He happily extends his little arms and gestures insistently at his father. All of this feels too good to be true, like in an instant he'll wake longing, wishing after this. But, Christina merely nods and passes the eager child into Bucky's trembling arms.

A lot of explaining and hair tugging later, Bucky cradles the two year old to him like he's a delicate, fragile thing. Gingerly handling and avoiding using his metal arm as much as possible as he holds the squirmy bundle as best he can. "You were gone by the time I found out," Christina explains quietly, standing hip to hip with the ex assassin, fingers combing through her little boy's hair as she continues. "I decided to name him _James_ after I saw the exhibit," Her cerulean eyes meet his steel blue and it feels like coming home. "I wanted him to have a part of you."

Bucky nods, both touched and heartbroken. He tears his gaze from Christina to his son, his spitting image. He still can't believe it. "I saw it too," replies the ex-Winter Soldier, "The Smithsonian exhibit." He shifts the little boy in his arms as Christina nudges them in the direction of the interrogation table and into a seat. She sits across from him, watching Bucky place their son on his lap with the most cautious touch.

"The week after everything at the Triskelion I came out of hiding because I had to know... who I was." For an instant the haunted, far away look clouds his eyes, but little Jamie manages to distract him, gripping at his father's metal hand, tracing the plates, bending his fingers and giggling in glee. He shows no inkling of fear and that brings Bucky back from the dark places. "After that I looked for you."

Christina frowns, feeling the ache of regret nestle down in her chest. If she'd only waited a week, they could have been together sooner. "I went back to your apartment, but you'd moved by then. Some middle aged couple lives there now." He tells her and he sounds strained, it makes the blonde reach out for his hand. "The night after the attack, I went to the cafe across the street from my old place and I waited for you." Her hand covers his, clasping Jamie's little hand between both of theirs. "I hoped you would come for us, but when you didn't I knew we had to leave. I couldn't wait for Hydra to reorganize and for to remember us. I didn't know if we'd be leverage or if they'd want us gotten rid off, but I couldn't risk either."

Bucky understands. He'd wanted her, after D.C., as his mind was going through the wringer. He'd remembered her and longed for the comfort of her embrace, the easy way they'd always fit together so effortless. But, he understands now. Their son, their _Jamie_ , comes first. He swells with pride and overwhelming emotion once again, aching with the reality of the little family that'd been waiting for him.

"He knows me," says the older man, it's phrased like a statement, but Christina can hear the question in there. "I kept your picture out once we moved to Baltimore," she explains plainly, leaning to peck the crown of the little boy's head. "No one knew us there and everyone that would have considered it a red flag was either dead or gone." Their son giggles, reaches out to play with the ends of his mother's blonde locks. "There was no point in keeping you from him anymore, Jamie deserves to have you in his life."

Bucky finds that short admission to ache far more than he could have imagined. A good, welcome, sort of ache, he thinks. Looking at his lover and their little bundle of sticky hands and tugging fingers, he feels that ache burn warm, buried deep down in his gut, blooming over his chest and making a home in his cold, old bones. It feels like home here.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

Outside Captain Rogers stands next to confused Clint Barton and amused Anthony Stark, fiercely resists the urge to pace back and forth, keeping their distance from the two way mirror next to the interrogation room door. Steve had known Christina had a son, had seen the little boy on multiple occasions and even met him. Never once had he imagined the Winter Soldier could be the boy's father. It'd been two years to the day of the incident in D.C. and even with his suspicions of Christina's connection to Bucky, he'd never have guessed him to be Jamie's father. It'd never even crossed his mind.

"That was quite the plot twist, ay Cap?" Questions Tony, gripping the face plate of his _Iron Man_ suit in hand. Steve levels him with an exasperated look, giving him the trademark _Eyebrows of Disappointment_. The billionaire merely grins, sparing a glance to the trio in the interrogation room, "I guess the question now is what are we gonna do about _Baby Mama_ and _Winter Junior_ in there?" Steve can only shrug uselessly, _what indeed_.

All is resolved after their little interruption, Steve relays their debriefing to Agent Hill and gives Bucky and the team an opportunity to meet the single mother and little boy. In the living area's common room Christina is seated on a sleek modern sofa beside her lover, who still holds their two year old unsurely tucked into his right arm. Around them are Agent Barton, Tony Stark, and Dr. Bruce Banner, who she's hastily introduced to by the billionaire. Colonel James Rhodes joins them a short while later, returning from a military liaison.

They sit in the spacious living room, the television serving as background noise as the group exchanging introductions with Christina and plays with little Jamie. Tony dips out momentarily to speak to Steve, who is tidying up his reports, while Hill and the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents are busy at work in another part of the compound, but Stark is quick to return along with the shyest and strangest member of the team by far, an artificial man animated by an Infinity Stone, named Vision.. Jamie is a little shy of all the attention he's receiving, after all Christina hadn't allowed many people to be around him, but he's insistent on remaining close to his father.

Jamie sticks to the ex-assassin like glue, always looking up at him periodically with those big blue eyes that look just like his father's. It's a sweet scene, Bucky and his little mirror image, the two year old babbling on thoughtlessly, watching as the adults exchange words, occasionally adding nonsense input of his own. It tugs on Bucky's heart strings as the little guy keeps them entertained with his unrelated interjections and his bubbly laughter.

Eventually the Black Widow and one of the team's newest addition, the Scarlet Witch, enter the common area, bound for the kitchen which is connected to the living room via the compound's open concept. The two women are fresh out of the gym, wet from the showers and sore from training as they bound toward the refrigerator. Wanda is the first to great Christina, mostly because of the adorable little child of hers that the Romani girl immediately becomes fond of. Christina has never met an enhanced before, to her knowledge, aside from Bucky and Steve, but Wanda is warm and kind, and brings a calm, welcoming air to the little gathering. It makes her wonder if perhaps the Sokovian woman is an empath to any degree.

Agent Natasha Romanoff joins Clint and Tony on their couch only after she finishes her water bottle and doesn't greet them until Wanda has finished talking, but when she does the ex-soviet spy politely inserts herself to welcome Christina and her son. The blonde knows about the Black Widow, prized warrior of the Red Room turned Alpha level S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent. She's heard tales since the woman's files had been released on the web after D.C., she's someone to be reckoned with, but Christina finds her pleasant if not mysterious.

 _~Pomegranate Kin~_

It isn't long before everyone is talking amongst themselves, Stark has selected something on the television that he, Rhodes, and Banner begin watching. Clint and Natasha are on about a recent mission, occasionally including Vision and Wanda, who sits cross-legged on the carpet in front of little Jamie, who is propped up on his father's knee. The little boy's parents watching on wordlessly as the so-called _Witch_ plays with the two year old. Jamie seems glad to have made a new friend as Steve finally enters the common room to join them.

" _Mummy,_ " squeals the boy,excitement plastered red on his little cheeks as he points dramatically, "It's _Captain Steve!_ " His reaction has the team chuckling, quickly putting together that Christina had not only taught the boy who his father is— despite the danger and the separation— but also who _Steve Rogers_ is in correlation to Captain America. It has that blooming ache flaring in Bucky's ribs once again. "Hey, Buddy." Greets the super soldier to the little boy, a tall brunette soldier in tow behind him, who introduces himself as Sam Wilson. Christina feels a little over whelmed with all the names and faces, while Jamie on the other hand, seems excited to have a whole slew of new pals. It's rather heart warming.

"Well Christina," Captain Rogers address, pulling the attention of the entire group to him. "Hill read the review of your debriefing and has deemed you and Jamie a clearance. Stark and I have come to the conclusion that your best plan of action at the moment is to move in here at the compound. If not to ensure that Hydra and their enemies aren't gunning for you, then at least to be close to Bucky."

Christina can be content with that, she thinks, turning her gaze to the former Winter Soldier as he cradles their son. Jamie's little smile, his chubby cheeks and big grin, his wide observant eyes as he takes in what's going to be their new home, at least for the time being. Bucky watches over them silently, his eyes meeting hers in question, a wordless, " _You'll stay?_ " and suddenly there's nowhere else in the world Christina wants to be. It's almost like they're home here.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Bucky now knows all there is to know, the couple are back together, and Jamie is totally over the moon for his dad. Steve's still wary of Christina, but what better place to protect them and keep an eye on them than at the Avenger's Compound along with the rest of the team?_

 _Aside the point of my lil bitch whining up top, I'm going home to the Philippines from July-August so the chances of me updating are low as hell between then and now. We'll see. Honestly who knows. Regardless of what comments you're leaving, thank you for reading and feel free to continue letting me know what we're hoping for in the story as it unfolds because I'm just sort of running on fumes over here._


End file.
